My Pun Game
by CherisherAo3
Summary: Puns I find for Chat Noir - All one shots apart for some sequels
1. It's Magic, silly

The stage was lit up, the props were in position, and the star of the show was centre-stage. The seated crowd gave its thunderous applause to the famous Spanish Magician, Fernandes Strato. He bowed low and greeted the crowd with a few starter tricks. It was a full house, like usual.

Adrien was a dear friend of Fernandes. Although he met the Spaniard through a humour convention, he hit it off quite quickly with the Magician. Adrien had promised the man a 'one hundred percent attendance rate' to every single one of his shows as a sign of respect to the fellow comedian. In Adrien's eyes, it was a small favour to the main performer of one of the best comedy-magic acts of Europe. The man agreed to the teenager's promise and held up his side of the bargain by providing a steady flow of jokes to the young blonde.

But merely being the audience wasn't enough for Adrien. So he helped around backstage, simple jobs like pushing on props or running out with the knives set. All small tasks that anyone could do, but helped out nonetheless.

After every performance, it would be the same deal. Fernandes would clap Adrien on the shoulder, give him a burly laugh then say the exact same thing. "One of these days, you will make these people laugh like I do." It was a silly little promise, but it gave Adrien hope.

Except, on one night, that promise came true.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! WE HAVE ALL HEARD OF THE INFAMOUS DISAPPEARING ACT HAVE WE NOT?" Fernandes called from the stage.

The crowd applauded in agreement. Once the noise died down, the magician paced the stage, whipping his cloak around in a magnificent show of class.

"I HAVE WITH ME THIS CLOAK. A MAGIC CLOAK THAT WILL ENABLE ME TO DISAPPEAR IN AN INSTANT!"

Offstage and with a clear view of the stage, Adrien sweated nervously. He had been training for the past week in preparation for this magic trick. He was the final blow, the punch line of the entire act. He couldn't muck up the steps or forget his lines, he had promised Fernandes too much to fail him now.

"ARE YOU ALL READY? BECAUSE I WILL MAKE MYSELF, NOT ONLY DISAPPEAR... BUT HAVE MYSELF TRANSPORTED THROUGH TIME AND BECOME YOUNGER!"

The crowd was in an uproar. Adrien felt another pang of distress shoot through his gut. The moment was coming up, all he had to do was wait for the cue and be prepared for the trick to happen.

"BECAUSE TIME TRAVEL IS A SILLY THING AND MOSTLY RELIES ON TIME, I WILL COUNT TO THREE, THEN THE MAGIC WILL BE DONE."

Adrien took a gulp. The Spanish Magician held up a finger.

"UNO!"

Adrien shook his hands out and quickly dashed to the appropriate hiding spot.

 **"DOS!"**

The Magician swung his arm down and in-between his legs, jumping while his momentum made his body flip through the air and curl into a ball. The cloak seemed to wrap around the Spaniard, enveloping him in the heavy red cloth. That was Adrien's cue to dash out under the cloak as discretely as possible.

Once the cloak had completed one full revolution, Adrien had to stand up immediately. Upon doing that, the cloak clipped itself to his shoulder pads and fell behind him.

This was his big moment; the Magician was gone and he was left standing in front of the massive crowd, dressed as the man who disappeared mere moments ago. All he had to do was say the line then run off.

He took a short breath and smiled a brilliant Cheshire cat grin, splaying his hands in a showy display of magic.

"AND HE DISAPPEARED... _WITHOUT A TRES_!"


	2. Upset

"How could you!" Ladybug exclaimed from across the crowded room. The audience turned their attention from Adrien Agreste on the stage to Ladybug in the back few rows.

"You promised me, Agreste!" she shouted at the teenager behind the microphone, the dozens of piercing eyes glaring at her for interrupting.

"No more of this one-liner, stand up comedy that you insist on participating in!" She threw her hands in the air and raised her voice even further. "Now you've degraded yourself to indulge in doing animal puns!"

Adrien raised the mic to his mouth and calmly spoke. "We never shook on it, Ladybug." He raised an eyebrow, "You could even say we never..."

"SEAL-ed the deal."


	3. The Bakery Brawl

"Watch out, Princess!" Chat pulled Marinette away from the impending danger of the Akuma's extending fingers and dove for under the counter.

The Masseuse pushed her powerful appendages, striking into the bakery wall behind where Marinette's head used to be. Plaster bits fell onto the bakery' daughter as the barrage against Chat Noir's Batton deflected the Akuma's attack into the surrounding area.

The place had become a war zone; Tikki was already depleted of energy and Ladybug was nowhere to be found, Chat had retreated into the Bakery when the Akuma fought him into this confined space. That meant Marinette couldn't help Chat Noir with the fight without blowing her cover. She had to stay in civilian mode and watch the extremely one-sided fight.

That was until... Marinette started throwing pastries.

One rule adhered to by every Massage Therapist was to keep hands clean and sanitised at all times. The customer would be extremely displeased if something were to be smeared across their back unintentionally.

The Akuma reared back and defended herself from the barrage of sweets. After seeing the results, Chat joined in, pegging cake after cake into the villain's large muscular hands.

Marinette started laughing, the method was extremely vulgar but fun at the same time. She even opted to make a joke of her own when she saw Chat Noir laughing too.

"Chat!" she yelled over his laughing and the flying pastries. "You could say we are fighting A Tira-Masseuse!"

The two teens continued to propel the bakery treats at the villain with grinning faces until the strongly appendaged fiend collapsed in disgust. Henceforth another battle won with bad puns.


	4. Baker's Delight

Chat took a different approach to talking to Mari. Usually, he came through her window and bothered her until she pushed him off her balcony. But tonight was special, he felt more confident. So like a proud little cat walking through some stranger's front door...

Chat proudly walked through the Dupain-Cheng bakery's front door.

He strode over to the counter and rung the bell for service. From out the back, Tom called out and came lumbering towards the teenage superhero.

"What can I do for you, Chat Noir?" He looked around Chat and out the door, "Looking for Ladybug?"

"No, no, Mr Dupain-Cheng," Chat said after a small bow, "I wanted to talk to your daughter. So if I could sneak past and go up to..."

"Hold up there son," Tom interrupted, protruding his arm in front of Chat Noir and blocking his path, "nobody harasses my daughter and gets away with it."

"Harasses? But I don't ha..."

"I've heard from Marinette that you constantly make terrible jokes that annoy even the kindest of people." Tom folded his arms and stood in the way of the door. "You are going to have to prove yourself worthy of talking to my daughter, otherwise, you have to leave."

Chat Noir cowered a little bit at the extreme display of fatherly love, (Never seen it before), but was on his feet once again, and as usual, with a witty remark.

"Did you hear about the French baker who drowned in bread?" Chat Noir said leaning forward and whispering into Tom's ear.

"No..."

"He was in a lot of _pain_."

* * *

"What up, Mari? IT'S YA BOI, CHAT NOIR!"

"Dad, you have failed this family and all of Paris!"

Chat Noir gave a small pout and crossed his arms. "Your dad thinks I'm ok, why can't you? I'm cool and hip." He splayed his hands, "Tell me all your inside jokes so I can be in on the action too!"

"My dad and I shared something, now you have gone and ruined it, Chat Noir!" She threw a pillow at his face, "And all our inside jokes are on a Need to Know Basis."

Chat Noir's lips curled into a mischevious smile...

"If your both bakers, isn't it a _Knead to Dough Basis_?"

"Get out."


	5. Injury

Chat Noir cradled his busted knuckles, pain shooting through his arm every time he moved a finger.

Ladybug rushed to his side in an effort to help him; the one-time Chat had an injury, the lucky charm didn't work. He quickly passed it off to be nothing, keeping the damage from Ladybug's sight and attempting to stifle his howls of discomfort. His breath was becoming fast of pace and his speech slurred.

"Don't worry, M'Lady. I may have broken every bone in my left paw," he stopped and held up his uninjured palm, " _but on the other hand, I'm completely fine._ "

Cue loss of consciousness...


	6. Green eyes - Green Thumbs

Chat bent over and pulled up a weed from within the fern's many leaves. He held the small root to the light and tossed it into a small black bag. He didn't bother with gardening gloves because of his suit, but he wore a pea-green apron for look's sake.

Marinette had asked him to help out with removing weeds from her pot plants, and to help clean up the one he smashed when he was on "Patrol" of the neighbourhood. He was happy to help her. He was extremely glad she didn't forbid him from visiting anymore, especially after he ruined a perfectly nice bowl of purple tulips.

He had already swept up the mess he made last night and was now on fern duty. He tossed another ugly root into the bag of weeds he had already collected. He promised he would use his Cataclysm and destroy the roots after he collected all of them. He glanced over his shoulder and looked at his friend.

Marinette was tending to her flowers on the other side of the roof balcony, her back turned to the apron-wearing superhero. She had hair tied in a bun and wore a flowing floral dress. She was cautiously trimming some roses with pruning shears, kneeling down and concentrating hard on her work. Chat couldn't stop looking at her. She seemed so delicate, so pure in heart and mind. He was glad to have her as a friend.

He turned his attention back to the ferns for a split second.

"Oww..."

He whipped around instinctively and bound over to Marinette's side.

She gripped her finger, pinching the point where a tiny bead of blood formed. Marinette dismissed Chat's emphatic concern with a wave and a happy smile. She turned back to her work, she gave the most disgusted look to a small plot of roses.

"Why have you betrayed me, my once faithful roses? I water you every day, replenish your soil every week, and yet, you wound me." Chat expertly caught the girl in his arms when she feigned fainting. She was obviously joking and being overdramatic, just to annoy Chat. Probably because he was perhaps too quick to jump from one end of the balcony to the other.

Chat laughed. He deserved that.

"Maybe, princess," he said pushing away a strand of hair from her forehead, "they've had their _Chloro-Fill_ of you and wanted someone more green-thumbed to look after them."

She giggled a little and pushed his nose away from her face. "Chatton, you may be as green-thumbed as your eyes, but you as green as a nerd when it comes to swooning girls."

"I try," he said shrugging at the comment with a smile, he helped the girl up and resumed work.


	7. He's a Weeb

Marinette had long since forgotten how to breathe. Fate had her partnered with Adrien. For twelve hours. On a plane. Going to Japan. Recording the pop culture. For school. With Adrien. Her crush. The model. And then another twelve hours. Going home.

And he is ecstatic.

"Can you believe it Marinette? Japan!" His eyes glowed and glimmered brightly. Like a child in front of a new toy, Adrien had already bound gayly round the private jet. The mayor of Paris had given the special provision to the school for this one occasion. It fit the entire class without a problem.

It all went by so quickly. They had already landed and moved their luggage to the hotel. Adrien had to share a room with three other boys, but that didn't bother Marinette. As required, all students needed to talk and record what they see in Japan with their partners. That meant Adrien was basically clinging off Marinette every other moment.

She had made the mistake (?) of telling Adrien that she had watched a few animes in her spare time. He took this to heart. He would jump whenever he saw something related to the tv shows she had watched. Mainly because he too watched them as well.

At lunch, Adrien expertly wielded two chopsticks and absolutely eradicated his obento lunch. So much that he excused himself from the table to use the restroom way earlier than everyone else.

Marinette wasn't even listening to Alya and her story about Nino's mistake of calling the Japanese, Chinese. Adrien walking away was as good as a sight as him walking towards her. She kept on staring even though he was now out of sight.

When Adrien stayed in the bathroom for longer than five minutes Marinette started to worry. Suddenly her phone buzzed. The text from Adrien read: "Urgent! XD"

That one word sparked Marinette to dash for the toilets.

From inside she heard laughter. Not evil Akuma laughter, so that was a good sign. She barged into the male toilets and what she saw was horrific.

Adrien was bent over in tears from laughing, two Japanese men heartily slapping him on the back as their faces too were scrunched up in laughter. They all stood in front of one sink and couldn't control themselves every time they peered into the basin. For some reason the two Japanese men looked as if they had come out of a history book, dressed in Dynasty era accurate clothing.

Marinette cautiously walked over.

It was now apparent that one of the Japanese men had taken off one of his historical recreations of Japanese footwear and placed it at the bottom of the sink.

After a few short breaths and wheezes, Adrien barely got out the words:

 _"It's clogged!"_

T'was then Marinette painfully realised...

Adrien was a weeb like no other.


	8. Jail Break

"Ladybug!" Chat Noir screamed into the receiver of his Batton phone, "M'Lady, please pick up the gosh darned phone! There has been a Jail Break! Just, whenever you hear this message call me immediately. I'm going in without you."

He ended the message service and concealed his Batton, leaping the distance from the rooftop to the earth. Hitting the ground running he bolted for the front gate of the Parisian Jail. A small group of ordinary people sat waiting patiently on the floor, all of them wearing the prison's colours. Chat Noir walked over to them and asked the important question, "Who broke out?"

A citizen who was imprisoned for becoming an Akuma villain named 'Malkovich' spoke up. "It was the old woman, I can't remember her name for the life of me, but her powers were foreseeing the future and preventing any luck."

"You mean 'The Soothsayer?' That's exactly what we need," Chat said sighing into his palm. "Which way did she go?"

"Down the main road," he said pointing out the gate.

"Thank you, and remember to stay inside," Chat yelled over his shoulder. He dashed for the gate and skidded to the kerb. Looking this way and that, he surveyed the area. But alas, no Soothsayer.

His Batton vibrated lightly on his hip. Whipping out the steel rod, he answered the call.

"M'Lady! Where are you?"

"On my way Chat. What's the situation?"

"You remember 'The Soothsayer?' She's escaped from the penitentiary and from what I can assume, she has been re-akumatised."

"Alright, you may need to be more specific with the details..."

"Uhh," he rubbed his forehead trying to remember. "Old woman, roughly around 120 centimetres in height, has the ability to cancel your lucky charm and see the future.

"You will need to extremely specific Chat, there are thousands of older women around that height. My mother is one of them!"

"Listen, M'Lady," he started to get a little frustrated with Ladybug's incompetence. "We are looking for a Miget Fortune Teller that escaped from Prison. There are very little amount of old women dressed in ridiculous colours and using mind control in Paris at the moment. I think that should be enough information to at least start looking."

"Well excuse me... How do _you_ suppose I get a bead on the old woman?"

"Ask around all the parks and all the street busker's areas and see if anyone has seen a _Small Medium at Large..._ "


	9. Musical Takeover

"Give it up, Chat Noir!" The Violent-ist shouted down the empty corridors. "You cannot hide forever!"

The dramatic background sound effects started to get on Chat's nerves. Usually, this stuff only happens in video games or kids TV shows; like the ambient soundtrack picking up whenever the villain is close.

A climactic string quartet suddenly revealed Chat Noir's hiding spot to the akumatised Villain. The Violent-ist began pulling pieces away from the barricade of desks and chairs the hero had set up.

"Come now, little boy. It is time to _face the music_!"

"WHY YOU... THAT'S MY LINE!"


	10. Chat Blanc

Chat Blanc's face cracked a smile. Beneath the shattered glass and the rubble of the Louvre pyramid, dozens of people sat trapped within the steel web of support beams. The once feline superhero prancing about on his little stage, striking his baton harshly on the metal bars as he passes. His snarl agitated as people huddle back in fear.

Ladybug sat completely trapped, enclosed within the network of metal bars acting as her cage. The makeshift prison space was extremely confined, causing her to sit on the floor in dismay. "This is the day..." she muttered to herself, "his sanity finally dove into a spiral and he submitted to the evil works of Papillon..."

She could only blame herself, she was meant to help chat in every way possible. She wasn't the friend she was meant to be.

Chat Blanc walked over to Ladybug's personal cage, whisking his tail through the air proudly. He crouched down and grinned like he always did. Except he wasn't grinning out of pleasure. He was grinning out of accomplishment.

"Oh silly little bug," his rumbly low voice taunted her, "couldn't handle the pressure of being alone?"

"Thought you could save me?"

He leant closer.

"Thought you could save everyone?"

She locked her eyes shut for fear of tears streaming down her face. Chat Blanc slammed his palm against the metal cage, "What of it, you insect, answer my question!"

"No!" she cried out. "No, no I didn't... I can't save anyone..." she quietly sobs uncontrollably and failing to catch any breath. Chat Blanc stood up and began to walk away, pleased with his results.

"You can break me!" Ladybug shouted through the bars, "But you cannot break him! He is still there and I know it."

Chat Blanc stopped for a moment and in a quiet voice said, "How could you ever know what he desires, what he has felt, what he has suffered? You never asked, you never thought to even care. You are the villain here."

Ladybug refused, she did care. She cared so much for Chat. She could even go the boundary of saying she loved Chat. He was a beautiful friend. He was always there for her when she needed it, or even when she didn't. Always seeing the bright side of things. Never a dull moment.

Ladybug dried her eyes against her wrist. Chat was amazing...

"A maintenance guy with no legs is merely a handyman..." she whispered.

She looked up and raised her voice slightly.

"A penguin only finishes his house when he builds it up and igloos it together!"

Chat Blanc turned around and raised his voice, "Stop it, right now!"

"What is a thesaurus' favourite dessert?" she shouted at the floor, then looking up directly at him, "Synonym buns!"

"I once read a book about gravity, wouldn't recommend it though; it's a heavy subject!" she was now yelling across the room.

"Stop it, stop it, stop it!" he chanted, covering his ears.

"Beavers are the best dam creatures I've ever seen!"

"Having children is an heir raising experience!"

"Disorganised aquatic animals are otter chaos!"

"STOP!"

"You see!" she pleaded, "I had to live with that every day I spent with Chat Noir, MY Chat Noir!"

"You may think that I am self-centred, ignorant, and selfish for all my actions, and you may even be right."

"But do not think that I do not care!" she screamed.

"Chat Noir is the hero I need, he is the hero I desperately need."

"He is the man who spoke those awful puns into my ear only to make me smile for the briefest of times."

"He is the friend who wants me to be happy even at his own cost!"

"So please..."

"Make sure that he understands..."

"I need him..."

"M-m'lady?"


	11. Winner Dinner

"Eat up, Chat Noir, eat, eat!" Sabine insisted, forcefully pushing the bowl of potatoes across the table. She wagged a finger at him, "You are much too skinny for a boy your age."

"Ms Dupain-Cheng, I cannot eat another bite," Chat Noir said with satisfaction.

"Nonsense! You look like a string bean; your stomach cannot be full!"

Marinette's parents were all over Chat Noir, asking him how he is whenever they see him or giving him free food whenever he stops by. The bakery seemed to be his second home. By the sixth visitation to Marinette's home, he had been invited to dinner probably five times and had received more than his share of agitated glares from Marinette. Now that he had firmly established himself in the lives of the Dupain-Chengs, Marinette felt quite neglected by her parents.

Tom picked up the potatoes and started piling a small heap on his plate. "Sabine, you mustn't force our guest like that... He will eat when he is ready." He eyed off Chat Noir's arm and compared it to the absolute tree trunks of his own. 'How was this boy ever able to pick up a bus with arms like that?!'

He snapped back to his senses and smiled again at Chat Noir. "You can eat whatever you want and whenever you're ready."

"Thank you, Mr Dupain-Cheng."

"Oh, please Chat Noir, you can drop formalities and just call me Tom. My Wife, you may call Aunt Sabine and our daughter you can continue to call by whatever you call her..." Tom said smiling a large friendly smile at Chat Noir.

"Papa... Please..." Marinette said from the other end of the table.

"So are you interested in Baking at all, my boy?" Tom said cutting off Marinette once again in conversation with Chat Noir. "You seem like a Rye type of man. If I could be so bold as to even saying you look like you enjoy a fine Ciabatta from time to time."

Sabine interjected before Chat had a chance to answer, "Nonsense, Tom! This is a superhero we are talking about, and a young one at that! He doesn't have time to bake bread. He has much more important things to do than silly things like that."

"Actually Mrs... Aunt Sabine, I have dabbled in a little bit of baking myself..."

All eyes, including Marinette's, turned in awe to Chat Noir. He quickly wiped his mouth with a napkin and held his hands up in defence.

"Don't get me wrong though, I cannot bake cookies for the life of me..." he cracked a smile, "I would be a lot rounder around the stomach region if I did. I am extremely grateful to Marinette for pointing out her family Bakery, you lovely folks are my favourite." Sabine and Tom grasped hands and smiled at each other. "Although..." he continued.

"I do make a mean _pun-_ pernickle _..._ "


	12. Ladyblog Admin Authority

"How could steal Alya's phone?" Ladybug shouted, sounding more agitated than aggressive.

Chat's ears drooped at her tone. She seemed upset that he had it, he never wanted to upset Ladybug, this was merely meant for a laugh.

"I'm so sorry M'Lady," he looked up with pleading eyes, then a crack of seriousness, "however I didn't steal it. I found the device on the ground just before patrol and wanted a little fun. The articles can be deleted quite easily if you want. I had no intention of making a fuss."

"I am a little annoyed that you lied to all our supporting fans like that, Chat Noir! You can't give out false information like that and expect people to believe it."

Chat cocked his head in confusion. "But all of it is true..."

"Really?"

"Of course! Never would I ever give out _Phone-y Mews_ like that."


	13. Bakery Wars

"You cannot be serious." Marinette pulled the hot baking pan out of the oven and slammed the door shut. "How could you not make enough? The instructions said it would enough if you followed the instructions."

"I read the measurements to the letter!" Adrien shouted as he cracked another three eggs into the steel bowl and whisked the yolks together. "The book said I had to put two cups of flour and that amount of that and this amount of this into the bowl and mix softly, how did I mess up?"

"Did you triple the recipe?"

"What?" Adrien snapped.

"Did you or did you not triple the recipe?"

"What? What do you mean triple?" Adrien had one hand holding a corded mixing machine, the other cradling a completely different bowl. "Of course I didn't triple the recipe! Why would I do that?"

The announcer steps out from behind the judge's table. "Bakers! You have fifty minutes left! I hope you have your bread made!" Adrien and Marinette looked at each other and both thought the same thing. They are running out of time.

"Just make enough dough for the judges and hopefully we'll have enough time to do the deserts," Marinette said stepping up to Adrien and pulling the machine out of his hand.

"Ok, how many times should I triple the recipe?" Adrien asked pulling a fresh bowl out from under the counter and a large sack of flour too.

"Three times, Adrien, 'Triple' remember!"

"Alright, no need to shout. I'll triple it." He plunged his measuring cup into the flour bag and started scooping out as many cups as he needed.

The announcer stepped forward once again. "Thirty minutes, Bakers! Chop Chop!"

"Adrien, how's the bread coming along?" Marinette called behind her. She had her back turned the entire twenty minutes as she focused on the icing on the cake. She had hoped he would have been done by now.

...

"Adrien? What's happening? You gotta talk to me if something's wrong," she called once again.

"I made too much dough, Marinette!" she heard from the other end of the kitchen.

"What do you mean?" she shouted.

"When I asked, "How many times should I triple the recipe", you said three times," she heard Adrien explain.

She turned around with icing spatula in hand.

"I tripled it like you said, and now..."

Marinette's hands covered her mouth as she gasped, dropping the plastic spatula from shock. Adrien crouched low and tried to support a large and shapeless form of nine-times the original amount of dough within his arms and chest.

"I've got dough everywhere-"

"Don't you dare, Agreste."

"..."

" _Dough-_ verload _."_


	14. Around a boat here

From upon the bridge, a mighty battle took place.

With his torso bound within the heavy lengths of wet rope, Chat Noir tried desperately to free himself from the villain's secondary weapon. From the right hand of 'The Captain', the slightly frayed end of the rope was gripped tightly. The Akuma's hand, being dried from the exposure to salt, proved impossible to lose grasp of the thick whip-like rope. The pot-bellied sailor paraded a heavy grey beard, along with a classical worn out eye patch and a white and blue horizontally striped shirt. His growl and bellows stank of rum and his bulbous nose gleamed red.

The river Seine was a mess. Boats from the sea had been pulled the lengthy three and a half hundred kilometre trek down through the Seine to the middle of Paris. All under the influence of The Captain, the boats crashed harmlessly into each other. However, it caused a mess worthy of the Lucky Charm.

Ladybug, while Chat was occupied with his right hand, was dealing with his primary weapon in his left; a long smoking pipe that disappeared into the grey facial hair. It plumed smoke after every heavy breath of the naval character. The smoke itself was intoxicating to the lungs and burned your eyes if you came in contact.

Chat Noir struggled once more against the restraints. "M'Lady! I cannot break free from these ropes!" He yelled as he thrashed against railings and scraped the bonds along the ground. The rope swayed as he ran around the bridge, slacking and growing taut as the black cladded hero dashed about.

The villain yanked at the rope and pulled Chat Noir closer to him, "Keep still yer vermin!" he bellowed at Chat Noir. An idea sparked in Ladybug's brain.

"Chat! Run around in circles! Tie him up with his own ropes!"

Chat made haste, getting himself back on his feet and running to the other side of the bridge to commence the plan of attack. However, The Captain pulled a grin instead of a face of worry. The rope slinked past the feet of The Captain as fast as Chat could pull it. Through the high-speed dash around the sailor themed villain, Chat Noir almost made the full sweep of the circle. That was until The Captain made his move.

Crouching down, he kicked himself into the air and cleared the rope's grip around his feet. The jump wasn't mighty like what Chat Noir and Ladybug do across rooftops, he was an incredibly heavy man after all, but once he came down the entire bridge shook from the impact.

The Captain gave a hearty laugh and bowed mockingly. Their plan hadn't worked, but that didn't stop Chat Noir.

Keeping the momentum of the first pass, he continued with another round of running around in a circle.

However, The Captain had already made his move, hopping into the air once again and missing the rope as it dragged across the floor. After each landfall, he prepped for the next passing of the rope, crouching down and jumping over the rope again, and again, and again.

Ladybug sat back as she watched the display of foolery that played before her. She wondered to herself how this job could become so ridiculous. She was watching a boy dressed in a black cat costume run around an oversized pirate cliche who was hopping up and down like it was a game of jump rope.

"Well..." Ladybug thought aloud, "what did you expect from a _skipper_?"


	15. Aqua Ladd

Adrien slipped down into the warm water, allowing the soapiness to climb up his torso and envelop his body from the neck down. His unnecessarily large bathtub was perfect after an Akuma battle. He closed his eyes as he allowed his mind to drift off.

As he did so, Ladybug dropped down silently from the open window into his lounge area. She raised a hand and called out into the empty room. "Are you there Adrien?"

Her calling out startled him, and he slipped underneath the water by accident. He grabbed the sides and pulled himself out, gasping for air and coughing out swallowed soap studs.

"Are you ok?" she asked as she meekly peeked around the corner. She froze when she saw half of his body out the water and the other half concealed under white bubbles. He froze too. An awkward cracked smile spread across his face.

"So," he asked still frozen from the shock, " _water_ you doing here?"


	16. Le Mime? More like Le Meme

It was a chilly January morning. Another Akuma, another day. Chat Noir had honestly gotten bored of the mediocre excuses.

"He stole my bike," so said a Tour de France competitor.

"She didn't attend my picnic," complained the average soccer mum.

"They haven't brought back the Szechuan Sauce," replied the somewhat valid thirty-year-old.

"I found a worm in my apple."

"These pants were too loose."

"My favourite tv show delayed the release of their next season."

It has gotten ridiculous! People get angry over nothing nowadays. Something so trivial as their misfortune is enough to send someone over the edge.

Chat Noir sat himself down on the stone edge of the Notre Dame and let out a heavy sigh. He let one leg dangle off while the other he held to his chest. He stayed there until his patrol time came around.

Vaulting over rooftops, he made his rounds. Before he was about to finish he noticed a disturbance. Screams were coming from nearby.

Closing the distance, he landed just outside a restaurant. There stood a man with black aviators and a white tee shirt, his goatee and moustache complimented his facial features nicely. However, he was expertly wielding a knife and carrying a small satchel across his chest. Innocent items to anyone, but to Chat Noir they were his weapons. His appearance was obviously meant an Akuma attack and Chat Noir took his offensive stance.

The fought each other on the wood deck, the batton and knife clanging with each strike. The villain said next to nothing as he swiped through the air with the blade. He was skilled and looked extremely talented in carving meat. He even got a couple hits on Chat's torso.

Chat breathed heavily as he retreated a little. He earned a couple cuts on his face during the fight. The Villain paced towards the hero, he dug his hand into the satchel and pulled out a dash salt. Raising his arm up high, he sprinkled the crystals over Chat's face.

Chat Noir was showered with the painful experience of salt on a wound.

Then Ladybug came swooping in, her outstretched feet contacting with the Villain and sending him flying stylishly backwards. She quickly helped up Chat Noir and examined his cuts. His face trembled and twitched with pain as the salt burned deeper. "What is happening, M'lady?"

"Of course you didn't hear about it," she said as she grabbed a glass of water and gently washed away the salt crystals. "Papillon has a new method of evil now. Well, it isn't really anything new but it is starting to have its effect now."

"What is, Ladybug?"

"Meme months," she replied.

"Meme months?" Chat Noir cried out. "You mean to tell me we have to endure Meme themed Akumas now? Every month?"

"Yep, just started a couple days ago. Master Fu told me we break them down into," she waved her hands about searching for an appropriate word, "Seasons."

"Seasons..." he said nodding his head with disbelief. "So the Villain today. What is he?"

"We call him Salt Bae."

"And this season, what is it going to be called?"

She looked down at him and gave him an exasperated sigh. "You want me to say it?"

He gleefully smiled, "Yes."

"Fine, but only the one time." She looked up and saw the Villain walking back towards them in strides. "We are going to be _seasoned with salt_."


	17. Australia Vs France

"Ay, ay, ay, mate! Come 'ere ya sweet talking lil darling," the Akumatised Australian said from the backseat of the Agreste's private car.

An Akuma controlled snake crawled up the Gorilla's arm and wrapped around his elbow. It constricted tightly around his thick wrist and caused the already distressed bodyguard to veer off and onto the left side of the road. Adrien remained powerless and paralysed, strapped down to the seat with a koala guarding his lap. The Gorilla tried his best to fight off the carpet python, desperately pulling at the wheel to move out of the way of oncoming cars.

"You'll never get away with this... Drongo, was it?" Adrien grunted as he fought against the restraints. The villain quickly flared up and wagged an accusing finger at Adrien.

"Nah, Nah, mate, you got it all topsy turvy! You Frenchies are the Drongos and Dropkicks!"  
He tipped his Hessian hat and gave Adrien a wink, "My name is Fair Dinkum, and I'm here to teach you Dole Bludgers a whatsit or two 'bout givin' me the Pink Slip!"

Now, Adrien was fluent in English, Chinese, and French, but even he had to squint his eyes as he slowly translated the sentence he just heard.

"You... got... fired?" Adrien slowly asked after a few moments of thinking.

"You're not too far from the rotter tree are you mate? Figures, since you're Pop was the doin' of the deeder."

"Was that a... insult?" Adrien asked, legitimately wondering if it was an insult or not.

"Man, you blokes are slow in the rafters aren't ya? No matter what I say, you're dancing on the roof and making a ruckus!"

"What happened to you!?" Adrien asked, equally concerned for the man and confused at the same time.

Fair Dinkum impatiently tapped the Gorilla on the shoulder, "Oi fella, can this ride go any faster? My nan could cream ya twice in a Bush Bash before you hit sixty klicks."

"We're on the wrong side of the road, Fair Dinkum!" Adrien shouted as another car zoomed past his window.

"No... Your country is just as messed up as a brickie doin' landscaping. Now shut your chinwag chaps and let us alone."

"You're going to get us killed!"

"Not if these Larrakins stop going the wrong way, traffic's meant to be on the left, always has always will be. You lot are on the wrong side!"

"No, we're on the _right_ side."

Fair Dinkum turned back around very slowly when he heard that. He wore a very concerned expression with eyebrows furrowed. He slowly picked up the koala on Adrien's lap and placed him on the other side of the car. "You're a bad influence, kid," he said as he shook his head, "never talk to me drop bear again."

* * *

 **A.N.**

Ok, before any more Australians come barging down my front door, (again), allow me to explain.

1\. I am Australian myself and I wrote this with no intention of offense

2\. This is the 110% Cliché I used to express my made up ridiculousness, I am fully aware no Australian talks like this. I just wanted to take the Mickie out of it.

DISCLAIMER - DO NOT TAKE THIS PASSAGE OF WRITING AS TRUTH OF WORD, IT IS A STORY ABOUT A PUN I THOUGHT UP, NO MORE, NO LESS

However, your comments are hilarious, don't stop on my behalf


	18. Boom Boom goes the Bass

"I'm glad you came, bro!" Nino jumped up and down on his studio couch. Adrien carried in his fair share of the groceries and placed them next to the door. "This is gonna be wicked!" the Disc Junkie exclaimed while falling back down the cushioned trampoline.

Adrien dusted off his hands and cracked his knuckles. "What Genre we got planned for today? Electro? Future House?" Nino laid across the couch with a smile spread on his face.

He held up an index finger like he DJ Khaled and spoke in a hoarse-ish voice, "Wait for it... Ba-ba-ba-ba-BASS..." His friend laughed at the bad acting and grinned.

"You seriously got them, didn't you? Those new speakers you were ranting on about for three whole days, you bought them without my permission, didn't you?"

Nino only grinned harder.

"And you want me to be the Guinea pig because you spent all of last-night setting them up and now you really proud of them?"

He raised his forehead, making his face stretched with pure excitement and happiness. Adrien let out a snort of breath while smiling.

"Alright, I'll be in the soundproof room." Nino jumped up and landed down on his swivel chair he uses while controlling the studio.

Adrien made haste to get into the room lined with speakers and foam padding. Embedded into the far wall were two new and solidly monstrous towers. They stood at least two metres tall and fitted perfectly the height of the room, from floor to ceiling. Adrien had to take a step back when he saw them. He hit the button on the intercom and spoke indirectly into it while still staring at the towers.

"Dang, man. You weren't kidding about these speakers." The intercom sparked to life and Nino's clear voice came from the tiny speaker.

"First song selection to test out these bad boys?" He paused for a moment and then interrupted Adrien's thinking, "Dude!"

"What?"

"ItHasToBeSevenNationArmyByWhiteStripes."

"YES," Adrien shouted as he smacked the intercom, "HIT IT!"

The song played, and oh how it played.

Adrien clamped his hands down on his ears and laughed really loudly. He could barely hear his own voice above the level of Bass. He felt tears streaking backwards on his face, the Bass pushing them away like it was a gale of wind. Adrien couldn't see Nino behind the triple glazed glass window but he could tell he was ecstatic.

Each verse got louder and louder, and soon the sheer amount of Bass got a little too much.

"Nino!" Adrien waved his arms in the air and shouted at the top of his lungs, "Turn down the music!"

Soon the main chorus of the song died away and the ambient ringing in Adrien's ears made him shake his head to try and get it out. The intercom speaker spoke in Nino's voice.

"You ok, dude? That was a sick amount of Bass!" Adrien wiggled a finger in his ear and hit the intercom button. "How are you feeling?" Nino asked before Adrien replied.

"That was roughly the same as my dad's yelling volume!" he joked a little too loudly.

"Wow, Dude. You are speaking waaaaaaay too loudly, I think I may have made you deaf!"

"What did you say?" Adrien shouted into the intercom. Unknowingly to Nino, Adrien wore a slight grin. He was merely playing out to be deaf to fool his friend.

Nino came bursting through the soundproof room doors and took Adrien by the shoulders. "WHAT HAPPENED?" he shouted into Adrien's face, "ARE YOU OK?"

Adrien continued to feint confusion and disorientation, a surprisingly good act for improvisation. Nino's face went pale.

Adrien quickly stopped the act and slapped Nino on the shoulder playfully, laughing and cracking a grin.

"I'm all good, my man. I'm just pulling your leg!"

"Don't do that to me!" Nino's face went red, angry at the practical joke. "How did you ever think that was going to be funny?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you fear for my life. But, my eardrums were starting to _Hertz_."


	19. Tell me the truth

Marinette fingers tugged at Chat's tail ever so slightly. She sat on the floor with her back against the end of the chaise, knees bent up with her head resting on their support. She looked down at the floor with sad eyes and absently fiddled with the steel-tipped end of his leather tail. "You wouldn't leave me?" she asked the hero sitting beside her.

"Never in a million years, Princess," he replied with smooth certainty.

"Are you sure?" she squeaked, choking on her own voice as she anxiously rolled her fingers around the leather. "Are you absolutely sure, Chat? Would you never leave me, even if I slowed you down?"

He wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder and pulled her towards his chest. He lowered his head and whispered in her ear. "You can trust me, Mari. I would never leave you, even if it meant giving up my identity."

"You're not lying?" She suddenly looked up into his green eyes, her own glimmering with the faint hint of tears. He sucked in an emotion-filled breath. He gently rocked side to side, swaying gently and hushing her quiet sniffles. "You're telling the truth? she asked one more time.

"Hey, hey, hey," he chimed softly as he rubbed his hand up and down her bicep, "come now, look at me."

She lightly brushed off a few tears and looked up at him.

"Does my costume really make it look like I'm _Lion_ to you?"

She half-heartedly giggled and playfully pushed at his chest. The smile that appeared permanently stayed with her the rest of the evening with Chat. She felt happy.


	20. Boots with the fur

Marinette walked around the "Transformed" Chat Noir. A complete redesign of his suit was impeccable. The reforms and additions sat on top of the old suit, so no drastic seamstressing had to be done. She clicked her pink pen and checked off each item as she read it aloud.

\- Lean legs

\- Perfect abdomen

\- Well rounded biceps

\- Angled jaw

\- Shaggy blond hair

\- Full and bountiful pecs

\- Golden bell collar

\- And the copious amount of leeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaatttthhhhherrrrrrrr

Marinette dropped the list she just read onto the floor and leant back to admire the handiwork that went into the refurbishment of his suit.

Chat Noir tested out the strength of the additional items through various poses. He stretched and pulled, but the extensions to his suit didn't break. He grinned cheerfully and tapped the platform shoes against the floor. He did a little spin and danced around the wood floor.

"Wow, I'm like a whole foot taller," he remarked as he measured up to Marinette's head. He was already tall, and the Platforms weren't necessary, but dang did they look good on him.

"They're only two inches, Chat." Marinette smacked away his hand he used to level the top of her head with his chest. "Stop acting so coy, you're still only 5'9'', those heeled shoes would make no difference in a fight between me and you."

He smiled down at her, "Of course you would beat me, Princess. You are the fairest lady of the land." He made a show of bending down to give her a pat on the head.

Then he stopped, and he stood straight once again. His gaze levelled and his awestruck face spelt out Epiphany. Marinette knew what was coming, but alas his mouth was too far up to cover. She desperately tried but to no avail, the words came out.

"Does that make me... The _High_ -ness? "


	21. Season 2 Predictions (Minor Spoils)

"So, what do you believe are going to be the other Kwami?" Chat Noir asked as he crouched down to look at the extremely old book. "Peacock has already been established, and we all have heard of the Bee kwami. But what else?"

Ladybug laid on her stomach with the book in front of her.

"Maybe this one?" She pointed at a female form in a brown masculine costume with antlers. "A form of Moose Kwami maybe?"

Chat shook his head in disagreement. "No, I don't think that one's a moose..."

"So... a buck maybe?"

He placed a hand on her head and gave it a small pat. "Oh, don't you mean a doe, _my deer_? "


	22. Kim and co

The repetitive chants came from the back of the classroom. A chorus of "Kim! Kim! Kim! Kim!" came from the admirers and supporters who used the desks like a grandstand.

Kim lifted his leg higher and higher, cracking a grin as Alix's face drained of confidence. He now stood with one leg completely vertical while the other supported his weight. Half the class clapped him on and cheered, the other half was in shock.

He had bragged about his versatility in all things sports, but dang...

The one person who most impressed was Adrien. He had never thought that position was possible for anyone else apart from himself. And he had Chat Noir's powers and strength to help him out. He had seen his Lady do a high kick, but never hold it up like that, and for such a long period. It was amazing; an awesome feat of strength and elasticity.

Kim let out another cackle as he brought the leg down and swept it behind him, kicking it backwards. He reached behind his head and caught his shoe as the kick came full swing. A perfectly executed King Dancer Pose.

The class roared with cheer once again, both sides now giving the athlete a standing ovation.

He dropped the pose and took a low bow. He had most certainly won that bet, fair and square.

Adrien was the first to come up and give him a pat on the back. "How the heck did you learn how to do that, man?"

Kim gave a bright grin as he directed his attention away from Alix's existential-crisis face and towards Adrien. "You wanna know my secret, bro? There's nothing to it, really. Just hours upon hours of stretching, nothing but working out and spending every free second exercising, and lastly having an unshakable will of complete and utter commitment to the cause."

Adrien let out a low whistle. "Wow, Kim you're dedicated."

"Nothing but the best, 24/7."

"Don't... you know." He waved his hands around as to look for the right word, "Don't you have to be _flexible_ with this sort of thing?"


	23. Covfefe

"Chat, you have to have breakfast," Marinette said as she pulled the fourth empty Starbucks cup out of Chat Noir's hands. "You need physical food and not more caffeine."

"Well excuuse me, princess," he said halfway between a slurr and a burp.

"What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I'm Cof- _free_ to do whatever I please..."

"..."

"Now give me back my pumpkin spice."


	24. Reveal

"I love Adele! She has to be my favourite singer in the whole wide musically acclaimed world! Forever Adele!"

These were first words Ladybug heard Chat Noir say after the concert. They got 'Free tickets' and the best seat in the house (Namely the rafters).

She was giddy with the buzz of listening to the famous singer, so she thought nothing of the remark. That was until the next day.

"I love Adele! She has to be my favourite singer in the whole wide musically acclaimed world! Forever Adele!"

These were the first words Marinette heard Adrien say before class. Alya had brought up the subject and had asked if the blonde model had attended the concert the night prior.

She was very aware of the comment now.

Chat likes Adele, wait,

Adrien does too.

They are both the same person.

That irritating haiku repeated, over and over again in her mind for the rest of the day. She didn't know what to do with that information.

Adrien was sitting right behind her. She could feel his presence.

She could do one thing and that was to leave it be, sleep on it for a week and everything will be fine and dandy.

Or.

She could confront Adrien/Chat Noir about his identity.

Ladybug had patrol that night so Marinette went with the second option.

"I know who you are, Chat." Ladybug stood firmly above the tied up Chat Noir. She wanted to make sure he confessed tonight and there was no possible way of his escape.

"But how did you find out?" He sat on his butt as he thrashed around in the thin, but strong, bonds of the Miraculous Yo-yo.

"You could say a very vocal bird told me."

"Why are you pointing at..." the realisation hit him and he looked up in shock, "WAIT, I TOLD YOU?"

"Inadvertently, yes." Ladybug chuckled.

"Dang..." he looked down dejectedly. "Which one? Was it the Civilian or Chat that spilt the beans?"

"Oh, it was your civilian self. And I have to say, your personality, is very different to your civilian one..." she bent down and came to his eye level, "Adrien."

He remained gobsmacked. She continued. "Adele was your eventual downfall. Both of you liked her too much and were extremely expressive about it. I caught you saying the exact same thing."

He gave a small sigh and shook his head with slight amusement. He dropped the transformation and looked up at Ladybug with a suave grin.

"You know I'm surprised, Adrien. You and Chat Noir have completely different personalities. I already knew you before I met Chat, so I have a question."

"Shoot."

"Where on earth did you ever find a personality like Chat Noir's? I mean like he and you are completely different! Almost 100% opposites. Doppelgangers from two parts of the world. Black and white. Up and down. Floor and ceiling. How the heck did you ever think up that ridiculous charade?"

He flicked his hair out his eyes and smiled up at Ladybug.

"Well, you could say I'm a... _Hero from the other side..._ "


	25. Japan! Part 2

Marinette slid down her closed hotel door, utterly depleted after the day's activities. Alya lay back on her bed texting Nino, she was swaying her legs side to side. Any form of movement looked exhausting to Marinette. She let out a long and pitiful groan.

"Adrien troubles?" Alya asked without stopping her texting barrage on Nino.

Another long groan, but slightly louder and of higher pitch, so it sounded like an agreement groan. One of Alya's hands moved away from her dual thumb texting and reached behind her head. She grabbed a pillow and threw it at Marinette, "Lighten up, it's only the second day here."

The pillow hit her with minimal impact and she blatantly ignored it. So much tiredness. So much pain. So much Anime.

"Oh, and speaking of the blonde boy," Alya said as she finally looked away from her phone. "He called not too long ago. He said he needed you."

"Annnnnnnd?" Marinette speech dragged out, she shoved the pillow away and used it to cushion the weak face plant into the floor. "What does perfection want with me?" Marinette through muffled pillow.

"No, when I said he needed you, I mean he needed you! In fact, his exact words were; a bunch of rambling on about some random anime food, but then he said "Tell Marinette, 'I need, need you.'" I mean like can you imagine that? Adrien is practically begging you to visit him."

Had the door not been in the way, Marinette would have been halfway down the corridor. She made extreme haste to get to Adrien's room. She was driven by a passion of a thousand suns, nothing could get in her way now.

Adrien wanted her. No. Adrien needed her!

She skidded to a halt at his door and very nearly kicked the thing off its hinges.

Inside sat Adrien. "Oh! I trust you got my message?" he said with a nice smile. She nodded in agreement, her breath heavy under the large Komino. He peered around her and looked for something. "Yeah, okay, but where are the twenty jelly-filled doughnuts?"

"The what now?!"

"You know. Jelly-filled doughnuts? They're our code for Onigiri, a.k.a. rice balls. From the dubbed Pokemon meme."

"I thought you said you needed me?!" Marinette shouted, all flustered at the sentence coming from her mouth.

"No, no, no, no, no, I said 'Marinette could you pick up some * _wink_ * Jelly-filled * _wink_ * doughnuts * _wink_ * and bring them to my room? I need _Ni-jū_."

She gave him a cold stare.

...

"Nijū is Japanese for twenty, isn't it?"


	26. Ballroom and a Banquet

"I am beat..." Ladybug said as she waved a red lace fan towards her neck. Chat Noir loosened his bow tie in agreement.

Outside on the marble terrace was a lovely breeze and the pale moonlight, two welcoming attributes the duo superhero team desperately needed right now. Inside the mansion, dozens of civilians waltzed the night away. The Mayor was kind enough to plan this event. He had in mind a quiet celebration, and a public thank you for the two heroes. It started off slow and then turned into a rich people meet-and-greet, but it was a lovely thought nonetheless.

Chat Noir pulled at his white shirt and tux collar with a single claw. It was really hot in there. The hosts didn't even bother to open windows, which was suicide; especially when everyone is dressed up in tuxedos and ankle length dresses. Air-Conditioning was doing jack in a room that big. Outside, however, was cool and calm. They leant up against the marble balustrade and revelled in the chilly midnight wind.

She rolled her head over her shoulder and looked at Chat Noir, they exchanged a hearty chuckle. Both of them had the same idea of excusing themselves from their dancing partners mid-waltz and journeying out to the terrace for a breather.

"So..." Chat started, "a Ball held in our honour, huh?"

"Well, if I'm being honest, it was just an excuse to get you in a tuxedo." She eyed the masked hero over, "Dang, you really wear that suit don't you?"

Chat let out a laugh. He slipped his thumbs under the suit's lapels and pushed off the marble balustrade, modelling off the tailorship with a spin on the heel. She let out a laugh and covered her lips with the tip of her fan.

He bowed low and swept his hand beside his waist, "May I suggest M'Lady, that we have a dance?"

"A dance you say?" she tapped her chin with the fan and smiled, "What dance did you have in mind?"

He straightened and looked deep into her eyes. They both knew exactly what he meant. They opened their mouths and confirmed their shared thoughts.

"Food..." they said simultaneously.

"Yep, I am starving..." she said nodding.

"They barely had any Hors d'oeuvres in there!" he replied, throwing his hands in the air and giving the room of people a harsh look.

"We really need to eat something."

"I suggest _Takeout_ , M'Lady."

"Takeout? Are you serious?"

"Of course! I know a nice quiet place that serves the choicest of Chinese dumplings."

She cocked her head and let out a snort of breath, smiling at his enthusiasm, but raising a suspicious eyebrow. "You want to eat Chinese dumplings in a three-thousand-dollar tuxedo?"

"Hey, hey, hey," he said holding a hand out to stop her, "these dumplings may the best in France, _but they aren't going to be wearing a tuxedo_ , okay?"


	27. He is Beauty He is Grace

"Tell me I'm beautiful!" Adrien playfully demanded as he flicked his locks away and glittered in the sunlight. He played a selfish smile down the girl begging on the floor. Marinette was in shambles, her Queen-like clothes distressed and her shoes kicked off.

"You're beautiful!" Marinette pleaded with the blond. She raised her hands and grabbed his white and gold cloak, shaking and imploring his attention. He turned and scornfully laughed off her pitifulness.

Marinette lifted the script and read the print one more time with a puzzled look, "I couldn't live without you?"

"Cut!" Nino shouted from the back of the room. He slammed his closed fist on his table multiple times, "Marinette, the line is "I couldn't live without you!". It is a cry of love! It. Is. Not. A. Question!"

"Mari, are you alright with saying these lines?" Adrien asked helpfully, extending a hand and lifting her off the floor. "I'm also kind of uncomfortable playing the self-centered Prince."

"No!" she shouted a little too loudly. "I mean... you play a perfect prince, Adrien. I'm just having difficulty with reading the text from the script."

"You're having difficulty telling me I'm beautiful?" he asked raising a brow and placing a hand on hip.

"Nahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," she played off as cool as she could, "You're like a mannequin in my eyes."

"A mannequin?"

"Well, If they ever have a contest for the best looking mannequin, I think you, Mr Prince, would be their _stiff competition_."


	28. Be patient and wait your turn

"You'll never escape! You must always do as I say!" Simon splayed the cards across his palm, a complete fan made from the thin cards. He pulls an arm back and propels the entire deck forward, the paper cards slicing through the air. "And I say... Make this attack come like a thunderous hail!"

The torrent of playing cards rained down on Chat Noir's hiding spot. The table he lifted up as a shield just barely stopped the cards from hitting him, the corners of some cards embedded through to the bottom of the table. He dropped the desk as he avoided a punch from the Gorilla. The mind-controlled bodyguard became a hassle when he turned into a thug.

Simultaneous attacks from two opponents became increasingly despondent for Chat Noir, having his attention divided denoted a severe game changer for the villains. It was too unfair.

"Are you ready for another barrage, Chat Noir?" He pulled a fresh deck of cards out and started to shuffle them haphazardly. The feline-themed hero just dodged the wide left hook from his own bodyguard, when all hell broke loose.

He straightened himself and let out a very frustrated yell. Whatever patience he once had for this battle, he lost it. Absolute anger overflowed him; he was so annoyed and frustrated at the unfairness of this one battle, he couldn't contain it anymore. He no longer cared about his bodyguard's feelings, and he let a closed fist come into a satisfying crunch of the Gorilla's face.

The heavyweight was thrown to the floor and Chat Noir quickly secured him in a restraining hold. Simon was shocked, one clean hit to the face completely knocked him out. Chat Noir quickly made sure nothing was broken and then proceeded to drag him away from the battle.

"What are you doing?" Simon said, raising his deck of cards, ready for another attack. "He was trying to hurt you and yet you help him to safety?"

"Hey!" Chat said dropping the man's hands and raising a blaming look to Simon, "You were the one who hurt him! And don't worry; I will be coming for you!"

Simon pulled back a little, considering a tactful retreat. Chat Noir raised a hand and pointed aggressively towards the door.

"Now you better get out of here before I really lose my temper and come after you and your stupid deck of cards."

"You really think that helping your friend will to be of any benefit?" Simon mocked.

"I am going to help my friend, because he is my friend, and, he is hurt. But the next time I see a single card from that deck of yours fly through the air, I _will_ be _dealing_ with you."


	29. Exercise Endurance

"Keep up, Princess!" Chat Noir said as started running backwards now. "Only five hundred more metres to go until the next checkpoint. Then we can have a break." He spun back around and picked up to a serious jogging pace.

Marinette kept an eye fixed on her personal trainer. He was extremely keen to help her out once again, and she gladly took his help. Running in the early morning was her way of exercising with little to no effort on her behalf, but now that she had Chat to push her even further, it became more and more enjoyable. Usually, she did only half an hour of running then gave up when she got tired. Now, the incentive of Chat Noir's assistance was too great.

They ran down along the Seine. Side by side, the two jogged under bridges and passed couples taking a stroll by the river. Chat Noir wasn't wearing his complete suit of leather armour this morning. Instead, he had the legs and torso removed. But the ears and the mask remained, along with two sports black leather gloves and a pair of sleek sporty boots. Alternatively, instead of the armour, he wore a classy sleeveless green tank top with grey shorts, an outfit hat distracted Marinette once in a while. She gave a quick glance over his bouncing muscles.

"Mari? You good?" Chat Noir said breathing laboriously through the heavy foot falls. She snapped her vision back to straight ahead and nodded vigorously with a blush. "Great, because just up ahead is the second last check point. Let's stop there and grab a breath."

The eased up on the running and slowed to a stop. Marinette walked around, and Chat fished out two bottles from a small backpack. Once they had their heart rates down, they took to rest up by the wall.

Marinette was really happy with what she had going. A lovely and handsome Personal Trainer that took her on runs every morning, along with an extra benefit of exercising without suspicion from either her Parents or Alya, it was too good to be true.

"Umm... Marinette, we need to have a talk," Chat Noir said as she slowly stood up and paced a few steps away from the wall. Marinette's face curled into confusion.

"What's wrong, Chat?"

He turned around and took a deep breath before continuing. He gestured between himself and Marinette and said probably the last thing Marinette wanted to hear. "We have to do more than just running."

Her whole world shattered.

Never had she done anything other than completing her Ladybug activities and taking a run every morning. He probably wanted to do some serious exercising, stuff that could only dream of doing. Her eye twitched when she thought of the prospect of doing push ups, sit ups, weight training, diet regulation, ab crunches, cardio, and anything but running.

She coughed into her fist and smiled up at her PT. "Can't we stick to running? I get a majority of my needs from it, and it's easy!"

He gave her a dejected look and raised his brow in sarcasm.

"Please!" she begged Chat Noir, literally falling forward on hand and knees and pleading with the hero. "I want our relationship to stay where it is; calm, cool, collected. Please be my Personal Trainer and just support me in my running, nothing else! Please, I only want to run in the morning with you! That's all I want!" She bowed low and prostrated herself to Chat Noir, muttering 'please, please, please' over and over again.

He dropped down to one knee and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, she wore a face that implored they stay at the same level of exercising.

He gave a light sigh and gestured once again to the space between them. "This... _isn't working out_."


	30. Domestic Troubles

A forgotten childhood room is an amazing place. A place where dreams were born. A place where stories were read. Mothers and Fathers tucking in little children. Soundless or even chaotic filled nights of slumber. There could have been many adventures held there; conquests to stay up till sunrise, a battle against the dragon invading the sacred land of Pillowdom, the eternal search for the hidden sword of Colouring In; The Unprecedented Sequel.

So many memories can flood back into the minds of adults whenever they returned to their old room. Nostalgia can bring tears to some people's eyes, others it could potentially warm, or break their hearts. A kind and fond memory can instil a lasting effect on a simple bedroom.

Adrien Agreste had long since visited his old room, so he had to question himself if he was ready to go back there. Throughout his childhood, he had never really experienced anything more than his father's discipline, his mother's love, and Chloe's friendship. Would he really have anything to go back to? Could he really live there again?

He did have the added bonus of a Wife now. Plus one on the way. So he should be able to cope.

Ever since marrying Marinette, his life had been surpassing the level of greatness he once envisioned it to be. They had their differences, but they make their own individual efforts to help each other out. The Cat and Bug were meant to be together, falling in love happened to be an accident. A plain mistake like forgetting to wash his face made Adrien an obvious candidate for Chat Noir. A smudge of motor oil caused their secret identity barriers to fall like an ocean on their lives.

He was happy it happened like it did. Marinette was able to see his true colours; not the boy behind the mask, but the hero behind the boy. At first, she had a little difficulty accepting Adrien as the Parisian Hero, but apparently, she had become very lenient to the Black Cat just hours before their reveal. So, the transition went smoother than planned.

Fast forward to now.

Inside the empty and hollow mansion was... exactly that; Nothing. The large marble stairwell that once featured a gloomy portrait of the Agreste father and son now remained an empty white wall. An unlived house, just waiting for the rightful owners to come back.

Adrien bent down and slid a packing box across the floor, the skim of compressed cardboard against marble echoed in the hallways. He clapped his hands together in passing and straightened to wipe the rest of the grit off his palms onto a pair of white overalls.

The first thing he was going to do? Paint over every single wall and ceiling, minus the marble. He couldn't have a say in what colours they were going to choose, but he wanted everything changed. Top to Bottom.

Renovations took over a week. Adrien worked from the early morning 'til dusk; painting, resurfacing tiles, replacing window panes, gardening and all other forms of odd jobs. The house was ready to move into by the end of the month. All that remained now were a few places to clean and the furniture to redecorate.

"Hun..." Marinette called out from her position of outstretched along the long white couch. She supported the enlarged stomach bulge before shifting around to a better position. "You up there?"

"I may or may not be hanging upside-down from the foyer ceiling, yes," he called back.

"What might merit my Husband to be doing that?"

"Light fixtures."

"Light fixtures..." she reaffirmed.

"Emphasis on the fixtures part." She heard shuffling of feet, but on plasterboard instead of tiles. "These things are mega difficult to remove you know."

"Wait! Do you mean those four weird low hanging chandelier things?"

"Yep."

She heard a grunt.

Then the sound of feet going through plasterboard.

The cry of 'Transform Moi!'.

Then a crash of glass.

"Huuunnn..." she called out.

"All good! You may want to take caution however, there is glass everywhere."

"And the transformation?"

"You may want to see for yourself concerning that one."

Marinette pushed off the couch and prego-waddled over to the bedroom door. She leant up against the door frame and gaped at the black-clad figure clutching to the ceiling for dear life. His claws embedded themselves deep into the plasterboard and two foot-sized holes remained filled with Chat Noir's boots. Another hole was in the ceiling, right where the light fixture used to be. The transformed husband looked around and clicked his tongue.

"Sooooo... um... Yeah... Hi..."

Marinette shifted her gaze towards the floor and saw the weird chandelier thingy in many, many pieces. One large piece was sitting dormant right next to her foot. She looked up again and squinted hard at the blonde man on their ceiling, or rather, in it.

"I recall saying we didn't need different chandeliers," she said with an agitated tone.

He grinned from ear to ear. "Well, you know how I like shopping online..." he pulled one foot out of the hole, "and being the complete shopaholic, that I am, I purchased a dozen or so light fixtures."

"I told you Adrien!" she scolded, stamping her foot quite adorably, "You are not allowed anywhere near the laptop. Not since the 'Ladybug pillowcase incident'. Even I still have flashbacks of that dreaded time."

She shivered.

He pulled out the other foot, and then lowered his body down until he was only held up by the claws. Marinette watched him wiggle and worm, trying to shake the claw out of their holes. Alas, he was stuck.

"You're stuck..." she stated.

"That I am."

"Well..." she said kicking the large piece of glass away, "this wasn't your _Brightest_ idea, now was it?"

"That right there," he said peering down at her from his vantage point "is one of the many reasons I married you."

"Oh wow. I feel so appreciated. Thanks a _Watt_ , Mon Chaton."

"Ok, this is starting to become a little too much for me. Mind helping me down?"

"And risk cutting myself on the glass? You better watch your _Tungsten_ , young man."

"I may die!" he cried out.

"Oh, well. I am not in the mood for helping people at the moment. Plus you're very heavy, so I'll come back when you're _Light_ enough."

"Mariiiii!" he pleaded.

She turned to leave and walking back towards the bedroom. Adrien tried to wriggle to get free but to no avail. He finally stopped his struggling and just limply hung from the ceiling, drowning in self-pity.

Before she entered the bedroom, however, she turned around slowly and pointed an accusing finger at her dangling husband. "This is what you get for leaving me in the _Dark_ about purchasing light fixtures."


	31. The child of the perfect boss

"So," Gabriel said placing his fingertips together as he rested his elbow on the mahogany desk. "You're looking to work for me, are you?"

Marinette nervously pulled at her collar. "Yes, Mr Agreste. I have heard many good things about your firm and desperately want to join your association."

"Big words, for such a small girl." He stood up and paced around the room. He unsheathed a tablet from his upper left pocket and started to tap away at it. "College degree in 'Fashion and Design', two years at my own Institute for the practice of material arts. My, my, my. You are one busy girl."

She felt imaginary sweat pouring down her face.

"It also says here that your father and mother are... Bakers, are they not?"

"Yes! They are!" she piped out.

"My son is very fond of your family bakery." Marinette swallowed hard. "He even has the boldness to say that you, Miss Dupain-Cheng, are an extremely talented girl."

She drew a very cautious and anxious breath.

"He texted me, you know." He held up the tablet and peered into the messenger service. "He never texts me. For any reason. But one."

She took another gulp.

"And that reason being, Sir?"

"To shout your praises," he said very matter-of-factly. She remained silent, but her mind was in discord. Adrien was talking about her!

"Yes, to be precise, he said texted these exact words; "Marinette is a purebred of talent, and a master of all things baking and fashion". Yet for some strange reason, he spelt 'purebred' wrong."

She waited patiently for his response.

"Instead he called you a Pure _bread_."


	32. Climatika is Back

A crack of lightning thundered through the air. The entire area was being ripped apart by a monstrous hurricane.

Crack after crack of lightning followed closely in succession each other; a barrage of deadly weaponized lightning bolts. Chat Noir rolled out of the way just like he did mere months ago, avoiding the attacks to the best of his ability.

Climatika was a very easily angered person, so it seemed. She was back for another round of destruction upon the City of Paris, and with little change to her reasoning.

She did, however, change her appearance in her recent akumazitation. Instead of the girly crinoline skirt, like she wore last time, she was adorned with a long and fluid-like formal Monarch dress. The dress was a marvellously deep and dark purple, featuring erratic streaks of jagged white lightning down its long train. She no longer wore the pigtails, rather, she let her hair flow, unrestrained and free to whip in tandem to the crashing gale of her power.

She had returned more powerful than before.

Chat Noir frantically ran under plastic benches, plastic awnings, and anything he could find that could protect him from the lethal torrent of electricity. The only weapon he had with him was the extendable baton that came with the job description, however, he was never going to use that in this situation. Having an elongated piece of metal as your only form of defence wasn't the best idea against someone who could wield lightning like some sort of Telsa cannon.

But now wasn't the time to be thinking about defence! He had to be on the attack! Somehow...

He ducked under a small scaled plastic Effiel Tower after a bolt of lightning struck the ground behind him. The barrage shifted to the tip of the tower and began to melt through the layers at an alarming rate. He had little time to think.

He could just give up here and now.

That wasn't the worst idea he's had.

He shrugged his shoulders.

It was either run until she caught him or Papillon's ruthless dictatorship.

He was more inclined to go for the living option.

Just as he was about to run out and hopefully turn himself in, Ladybug came swooping in.

"Fear not, Chat Noir! We have the backing of the entire French population behind us. We have everyone rooting for us. We cannot fail the people! We cannot give in to the whims of this small and sassy child!"

A crack of thunder made Chat Noir tremble in his boots. He was left with a weighty decision. Either come out of hiding and face the, probably the most dangerous villain he has ever seen, with claws blazing, or... Run away and disappoint everyone, making a fool of himself in front of the entirety of Paris, and not to mention his Lady.

He slapped his hands on his face. His mind was in a tug of war. Faceoff with Climatika 2.0, or run.

How could anyone make that sort decision?

Oh, the _humidity_!


	33. Riot in the classroom! Part 2

"Kim is a fake!"

"Kim is a fake!"

"Kim is a fake!"

The chanting of students disrupted the midday lunch break, and soon, heads began peering out of windows to take a look at the commotion. Alix led the small mob of picket-wielding classmates into the cry once more. More and more students walked over from their eating areas, drawn by the questionable riot among their peers.

"Kim is a fake!" Alix called out to the small crowd forming before her. "Everyone is led to believe he is the most flexible athlete in Lycée! I say NO!"

Someone shouted from the centre of the crowd, "Yeah! She's right!"

That person probably had the task of hyping up the masses anonymously, and oh boy did it work. A chain reaction of agreeing cheers swept through Alix's audience.

Soon, the entire crowd became part of the mob, all sucked into this one ideology because of peer pressure and psychological opinion herding.

It was only a matter of time before Kim arrived.

"What do you mean 'Kim is a fake!'? I have hard proof from a dozen classmates, who saw us duke it out in yoga positions the other day, that I am the best athlete!" Kim shouted at the mini opposition leader. "Don't even try to deny it, Shorty!"

"Shorty!?" Alix cried, infuriated at the demeaning nickname. She jumped down from her soapbox and powered through the crowd while rolling up her sleeves, "I'll give you 'Shorty!' Say it to my face! Come on, I dare you!"

"Come at me, Short Stack!" Kim beckoned Alix with both hands. "I wanna see you try!"

"What is going on here!?" a voice shouted from beyond the crowd.

Everyone, including the two fighters, turned to face Adrien Agreste. He stepped forward, stopping in between the two quarrelling teenagers. He shot both of them an angry look.

"Tell me! Who won yesterday?" he shouted aloud so the entire crowd could hear. "Who, Alix?"

"Kim did..." she grumbled reluctantly.

"And tell me who beat you," he shouted, turning to Kim, "and won the bet that there will be no more dares... ever!? Kim?"

"Alix did..." he muttered grudgingly.

"There we go..." Adrien said nodding his head. "And your lessons that you learned from this experience?"

Both Kim and Alix remained silent. Adrien let out a sigh.

"Kim. You never call your friend a disrespectful name." Kim quickly nodded in shame and apologised quietly to Alix.

"Alix. You lied in front of everyone here. Kim won fair and square in that yoga competition. Don't ever _stretch_ the truth about his flexibility."


	34. To Serve the People

"Could you believe this preposterousness?!" the bureaucrat roared as he sloshed around his drink. The attention he drew was slowly growing as he continued to make a scene, the few other guests turning their head to watch the commotion. Chat Noir pulled at his white waiter collar and played a kind - but irritated - smile. The man obviously had a tad too many parfaits from the dessert table, if you get what I mean, and had taken to vocalise his concerns.

"If this were a real banquet hosted by Paris' suuuuuuperheros," he slurred as he forcibly pushed Chat's chest with an accusing finger, "we would all be drinking champagne and not Prosecco!"

"Sir. Is there anything wrong with Prosecco?" Chat Noir tried to ask without having his eye twitch from his agitation. Chat full well knew that this party was going to be a difficult one if people like this were going to turn up.

The bureaucrat downed the entire glass and made an awfully loud burb afterwards. His expression turned to shock, then he raised his hands and got extremely defensive, "Hold on now! I like Prosecco! I'm not complaining!"

"Then is there a problem?"

"If Chat Noir is so grand and as miraculous as everyone plays him out to be," he very obviously complained, "then he shouldn't be the one serving me my drink."

Ladybug had started to pick up her dress and walk over to confront the rude guest, but Chat raised his hand and stopped her. When he turned his attention back to the vulgar man, he smiled for real this time.

"Sir. I give you my humblest apologies. Why don't you have a drink from the reserved bottles we keep for the special guests as our way of saying sorry." Chat Noir bowed apologetically and offered the way to the minifridge. Just before the man stepped forward, Chat Noir stopped him. "However, I am afraid that at this party, we neither served nor asked anyone to bring any alcoholic drinks to share, nor will we give any such drinks out in the near future. So this leads me to ask, how are you drinking something like Prosecco?"

Chat Noir straightened from his bow and gave a glare at the empty flute champagne glass the man was holding. The man began to sweat nervously and he quickly hid the glass from the Black clad hero.

"Where may I ask is your invitation?" Chat Noir asked, now staring firmly at the man. The man bumbled around his words a bit, trying to find an excuse. "If you have the physical invitation on your person, I won't throw you out the door for disturbing my guests and insulting me to my face. If you do not have an invitation, you will not be welcome here."

"What?" the man asked with a hint of fear in his voice. "You can't throw me out!"

"So I take it you have no invitation?" Chat Noir said, rolling up his sleeves and strongly grabbing the back of the man's collar. "Good."

"Stop! This is harassment! No! Let me go! I am a very important person! Stop! Ahh! Eeek! No! Not the door!"

The man tumbled out into the hallway. Chat Noir dusted his hands and walked back inside with a grin. He soon returned and gently placed the flute the man was drinking from down on the carpet. He produced a grape juice box and tipped its contents into the glass.

He stood proudly and nodded to the man. "There you go, Sir. Best seat outside the house and my best wine I have to offer. Let it never be said that my waiter skills are underrated and of _pour_ quality."


	35. Essay Upfront

"Gaaah!" Marinette tore out another page in her notebook, scrunched it, and threw it haphazardly behind her. She slammed her head gently on the desk multiple times before Chat Noir placed a hand on her shoulder. "Why does it have to be an essay of all things!?" she growled into the hard surface.

Chat smiled as he bent down and retrieved the failed attempt number thirty-eight. He rolled it out and read along the lines in quick motion.

"I dunno, Princess. This paperwork looks very pur-suasive." He chuckled at the joke.

"That pun doesn't count under these circumstances, Chat Noir," Marinette said raising her head and giving him a glare. "A pun is a joke exploiting the different possible meanings of a word or the fact that there are words which sound alike but have different meanings. There is no 'pur-suasive' writing in this essay; henceforth, your pun is invalid."

Chat looked stunned. "How the... wow..." he said raising an eyebrow. "That was... hoo.. wow... First time for everything, am I right?"

She rolled her eyes and slammed her head back down on the table with a heavy thump. "I don't have time for this!" she cried in between head bashings.

"Mari, Mari, Mari!" Chat Noir put out a hand and stopped her forehead from damaging itself any further. "Look. You still have a dozen or so hours left. You can make the deadline."

"Why does writing have to be so hard!?" she wailed into the air. "Can you imagine people who do this for a hobby? They must have the patience and diligence of a very awesome person in order to do that kind of stuff."

"Are you talking about people like Alya with her Ladybug headcanons and shippings?"

"Yes! How could someone be that interested in writing? I wish I had half the motivation that those people have, then I could probably finish this dang essay and get some sleep!" She laid back into the chair, letting out a long whine. "Curse you writer's block!"

"Just... pick up the pen one more time and I'll help you with the phrasing." He pointed at the page he picked up, "Here, pick up where you left off."

"Chat. I am not cut out for this. No ideas are coming out of my brain, no useful ones at least. I may have to resort to making it up and add jokes all the way through it to make up for the sheer terribleness of it all." Marinette picked up the pen and threw it against the wall. It bounced back and conveniently landed on the notepad, which made her want to cry even more.

"Listen." Chat Noir said, picking up the pen and clicking the tip into place, ready for the essay to come. "Writing is not easy. It was hard when I did my essay, so I completely understand where you're coming from."

"Oh really... and what was your tactic for getting out of this, may I ask?"

He pulled a cheeky grin. "In order to be an author," he said as he held up the writing utensil and tapped his temple with it, "you gotta be very _pen-_ sive."


	36. Sticky Situation

A standard factory worker was Papillon's latest victim. An unusual story in anyone's books - to say the least. His reason for victimisation was quite personal and was obviously for selfish desires. Couldn't hold together the relationship between him and his girlfriend, and then everything fell apart at the seams. Now, wanting to 'patch' things up, his rampage against all ex-girlfriends caused anyone who touched the glue he shot from his hands to stay stuck forever.

The hero team was mobilised as soon as they could. Ladybug and Chat Noir took to the rooftops while the fox and turtle duo took to evacuating everyone from the surrounding area. Paon and Queen Bee were tasked with distracting the Akuma on the ground. Would have been a good plan.

"You had to get our hands glued together didn't you, birdbrain?" Queen Bee commented as she examined the sticky grasp of the Akuma's glue. Both Nathanaël and Chloe's suited hands wouldn't budge under the magnetism of the adhesive. His left hand and her right were permanently conjoined when their fingers accidentally interlocked with each other. Chloe let out a sigh, "I'm the only one who is capable of solo flight in our entire team and you decide to go for me. Thanks a bunch."

Paon quickly pushed her out of the way of another glob of glue coming in their direction. He looked around carefully before pulling her up and started dragging her behind him as he searched for a place to hide from the barrage of attacks. He quickly spotted an empty warehouse and made a dash for it. "Come on, let's get out the Akuma's sight. Chat Noir and Ladybug can handle him while we clean this up."

They made it in, moments before a huge glob struck the door they just entered. It oozed through the cracks and hardened into a stiff putty. That exit was now blocked.

"Great, just brilliant!" she said as she kicked at the door, "no means of escape and trapped like a bird in a cage. Thanks, Nathanaël, you did a wonderful job of mucking things up."

"Hey, I saved you! You were the only one in danger, Chlo. I had to get you out of there," he argued as he turned to walk further into the warehouse.

"Once again, what part of 'ca-pa-ble-of-flight', do-you-not-get?" she huffed as she was dragged along behind the redhead.

They made their way through to an open storage area and stopped to have a proper look at the damage. He tried to pull their entwined fingers apart but to no avail. The powerful glue induced an inseparable bond between the two hands, so nothing was going to stop it. Instead, all Nathanaël achieved was smearing glue onto his other hand and getting that one sticky too.

"Well isn't that brilliant..." Chloe huffed as she brushed a strand of her hair back in place, "That's gonna make flying all the more of a breeze."

"I can use my cloak as a parachute of sorts," he said, improvising an escape plan. He turned to face her and explained his idea. "I can hold on to you and we can glide out of here through that open window up there; you as the propellor and me as the rudder. Now please listen to me for once and we can hopefully get out of here." He absently placed his free hand on the small of her back.

She gave him a harsh look.

"Nath..."

"Yes, Chlo?"

"Did you just put the hand that had glue on it... on my back?"

"That I did," he nodded with an awkward grimace. He gave a couple small tugs, "Yep, completely stuck."

"Great..." She pinched the bridge of her nose, "Just what I needed."

"You know you could be a little more cooperative," Paon snapped. He tugged harder against the glue in spite, causing her to be yanked to the side. "I am extremely new to this, Bee, so have some decency and give me a break."

"Decency? You wanna talk about decency?" she said raising both eyebrows.

"Treat me as your equal and maybe I can do my job properly!"

"Emphasis on the 'may', tomato head! You couldn't get us out of this situation if you tried!"

"Come on then, name-caller, give us your best shot of getting us out of here."

She looked around and huffed agitatedly. "I hate you, you know."

"I hate you too."

"Well, then that's settled it."

"What?"

"I don't want to help you," she said sticking her nose up in the air.

"Good! Neither did I!"

They turned their heads away from each other and sulked.

...

As the slow minutes passed by, they stood there in each other's silent embrace. They both opted to stand instead of sit, their predicament barring them otherwise. In the small warehouse, they could hear the sounds of battle echoing outside. Soon, seconds painfully dragged out in the awkward silence.

"You know what Nath?" Chloe abruptly announced as she let her free hand rest on his shoulder, "This is the exact same way we first met, isn't it?"

"What?" he replied, quite concerned.

"In this pose, you dummy." She swayed her hips a little and guided him softly through the small steps. "You were always terrible at the waltz."

"Wasn't that at the art exhibit three months ago?"

"I always liked how that your portrait of me sits on my bedroom wall. It reminds me of you."

"Ahh," he recalled and his cheeks turned slightly rosier.

"'Ahh' indeed my blushing boy." Chloe leant forward a little bit and made sure to invade his personal space. "Wait. Why does that make you blush?"

He coughed to the side and dismissively rolled his mouth around, which was then concluded with a sigh. He looked back at her tried to hold the unblush-iest face his could. "You paid triple for that painting."

"That I did. That I did."

"Come on, now isn't the time to dawdle, we have to at least try to find another exit." He tried to pull away but found that his partner was keen on moving yet.

"You gonna try and run?" She gave a small chuckle. "Have fun with that. We are literally glued together."

"Well w-w-what if... We go ahead with that p-plan I made up earlier?" he stuttered as she pulled his body flush to his.

"And fly out of here?" She shook her head. "Can't-do, tomato. You've put your sticky hand on both my wings and my back. You've doomed us til rescue."

He looked around nervously, "So... In the meantime what shall we do?"

She lifted her free hand off his shoulder and lightly grabbed his chin, turning his head to face her. "We could dance."

"D-dance?" His stomach was doing flips. "I thought you hated me."

"I thought you hated me too, so we're even." She squeezed his hand. "Now shut up and dance with me."

Nathanaël reluctantly performed the usual shuffle of the waltz. Two steps forward one step back. The clicking of their feet against concrete echoed in the small warehouse. Chloe wasn't paying much attention to the dance itself, but more to her partner. His rosy cheeks suited well to the brilliant red of his hair. The flowy swish of the peacock feathers brushed up lightly against her legs. Her memory flashed back to that art exhibition.

"You know, I don't really know why I danced with you that night," Chloe said as she spun around Nathanaël while keeping the embrace.

"I don't know how to take that comment..." he clarified, a tad bit disturbed at her remark.

"I meant it as a compliment, Red." She let out an anxious breath and stared directly into his eyes. "You know I've never actually hated you right?"

He dipped her down as they danced while speaking. "What do you mean by that?" he asked as he held her there.

"I... kinda... mean the opposite... of 'I hate you'."

He blushed. Hard.

* * *

"How the heck don't they realise?" Ladybug whispered under her breath.

"What? That the Akuma has long since been defeated, all the glue was removed with the lucky charm, and that they aren't trapped in each other's embrace?" He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Nope, I don't think they do."

"Shouldn't we tell them before things get out of hand?"

"This is the perfect time to see if they kiss. I have good money on those two in the shipping pool."

"You sly cat!" she hissed as quietly as she could, "I have it that they get together next week!"

"No interference with the bets," he remarked softly, "If they kiss now, I win the mula and get the kitty."

"Oh, well isn't that just great..."

"What?"

"Look down there."

Chat Noir turned to see.

Locked in each other's embrace, Chloe and Nathanaël shared their first and tentative kiss.

Chat Noir fist pumped the air multiple times and as silently as he could manage. He wordlessly thanked the Glue Akuma many times for attacking that day and squealed maybe just a little. Ladybug rolled her eyes as he celebrated his victory, but he snapped out of it when he realised he hadn't been paid yet.

"Come on. Cough up the money." He beckoned with his fingers in anticipation. "Deals a deal. Nothing wrong with harmless betting. Cough it up. I won fair and square. You can't be a hero if you can't _stick_ to your word, now. Cough it up, cough it up, I say."


	37. Rile the Troops

"We will stand our ground!" Adrien cried from a tree on the river bed, dressed in his swimming trunks.

"YEAH!" the class excursion chorused back.

"We will fight for our right to swim!"

"YEAH!" they cheered.

"LET ME HEAR OUR MOTTO!" Adrien shouted.

" _LEECHES SUCK!_ "

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

Hello, my fellow pun lovers.

This is indeed a small chapter, but I shall use it to say a few words.

If you have made it this far into the series, I congratulate you.  
If you've liked what I have written so far, I thank you.  
If you're following the updates, may there be mercy brought upon you.

That is all, but if you want, you can talk to me on my tumblr, found in my profile.  
Links on here do not work for me


	38. Football

"Ladybug and Chat Noir; the Heroes of Paris are here;" the announcer practically screamed into his microphone, "so are you ready Euro 2016!?"

The uproar from the crowd sent shivers down Ladybug's spine. She could handle someone like Alya praising her one on one, but now the entire passion of the French people came gushing over her. Fan meetups were one thing, standing in the middle of a soccer field surrounded by France's finest and an ocean of spectators, is another.

Chat Noir, on the other hand, was already embracing it like he usually does; dashing around the whole field, performing summersaults and flips whenever he felt necessary. Every perfect landing would merit the sea of on-watchers to screech in admiration.

To be fair, it's not every day you're invited to host the Euro 2016. Ladybug held up the small palm card and read aloud into the wireless microphone.

"Ladybugs and Chat Noirs of the world! We are honoured to be this year's representative host and hostess of the Euro 2016! I hope this event is a happy and competitive one. And remember, all akumatising is banned for the entire game, so keep up the cheering and no-one will go home disappointed today!" The crowd let out an enormous boom of hurrahs and whistles in agreement.

Chat Noir came bounding over from the other side of the field, cleared a jump of Ladybug, he snatched the mic midway and landed it flawlessly. Striking a pose as he stood up, he addressed the cheering audience with a loud voice;

"Who is ready to win this game!?", earning another wordless uproar from the crowd. He grinned from ear to ear. "And to start us off..." he reached into the suit's small leather pocket and held up a white object, "we have this!"

The crowd's cheers died in a dead silence...

"Chat, what are you doing with a wad of wet socks in your hand?" Ladybug asked her feline companion as she was handed another microphone from the team leader.

"Well, My Lady," Chat said after turning to the long stretch of open grass and patting the wad's wet surface, "how can you be expected to play a game of soccer..." he pulled it back and powerfully threw it into the towards the other side of the field, "if you don't have a _sock_ -er ball?"

If a crowd could get any quieter, it did so.

Only the cheery screams of Chat Noir were present, justified by the wad of socks landing directly into the opposing goal. 

* * *

**A.N.**

Posting this one, coz it was originally Chap 1. which I then replaced with the original Chap 38. for sake of appeasing a crowd...  
Not my best, but I still wanna include it :)

P.S. Potato-Tomato Soccer-Football ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	39. Million Dollar Question

"How do you even do it?"

Chat Noir cocked his head and gave her a puzzled look. "Do what?"

"Don't answer my question with a question," ladybug said poking an accusing finger at his chest. "What I mean to say is 'How are you able to make so many puns?', because there has to be a limit somewhere."

"There is no limit to the number of puns I know," he boasted.

"Really?" Ladybug was very sceptical about that idea.

"Here," he said, bringing out his baton and flipping out the phone function, "I'll show you."

He quietly tapped a few buttons and a pulled up the calendar application. "One, two, three. There we go, my schedule."

"What!?" she said yanking the phone out of his hand and reading the text under the dates.

Each square tile had the date, and directly under the date was a little note. That little note contained a pun. And every single tile had their space occupied with the small text.

"You have a pun for every single day!? Of the YEAR?"

"Never leave home without it."

"But... But..." Ladybug was bewildered. "Do you ever miss a day?"

"I have missed a few days," he acknowledged, "but my maximum is seven days without a pun. I can't go any further than that. It would be too much for me."

"Too much?"

"Seven days without a pun makes _one weak_."

* * *

A.N.

Hehehehe, I loved that pun.  
*Cough* Now, to the point  
This is probably going to be the last author's note (I know everyone hates them)

The next chapter is going to be a _Sequel_ of quicksilversquared's _'The Pun Book''_

You should check that out before I upload the next chapter, It is an amazing fic and I loved it.

SEE YA


	40. A Page Turner

The old musky Library was cool and still. Light filtered in from the ceiling high arch windows and caught on the general dustiness of the place. Rows and rows of bookshelves lined the long library hall, stoic in their solemn standing.

As Marinette and Adrien walked away from the front desk and to the open reading area of the library, the bluenette felt her blush intensifying. Her mind was racing with the thought that Adrien liked puns.

To her, it was a catch 22; she was into puns, but she never really liked puns.

However, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was misleading him. She was just using The Big Pun Book for the competition with Chat Noir. She didn't want to lie to Adrien, he was way too nice.

Marinette subconsciously brushed a stray hair behind her ear and hugged a small pile of books tighter to her chest. She had to remain calm under pressure, Adrien was merely asking her out, not on a date, just out. He had no intentions of becoming more than just friends, that was clear. Puns were not going to be part of the romantic origin story told on their wedding day.

She looked up and caught a glimpse of his smile.

 _'Oh no,'_ she quietly screamed in her head. _'He's hot.'_

The librarians' hoots, clapping, and ecstatic whoops for joy were not helping with her stress levels either.

They settled down on two opposing age-old reading armchairs. The Librarians still watched from afar, now quietly observing their dramatic shipping play out.

Marinette couldn't really keep still on the chair, bouncing her knees while she scanned the room. Adrien sat with feet together and as still as a stone, kind of like if you were visiting a relatives house for the first time.

"SO!" Marinette accidentally shouted, which earned a hush from the rest of the library. "So..." she repeated in a hushed voice.

"So..." he replied with a soft nod and a nervous smile. "I guess I should start." He cleared his throat and then laid his hands on the pun book. "First question... umm... How did you find this?" he asked curiously, tapping the large volume on his lap.

Marinette had to register the question for a little bit before managing to spill out her answer. "You mean like, how did I find the physical book? Or how did I find the puns in general?"

"Why not both?" he proposed.

"Well," she slowly started. "I think the puns are amazing. Every time I crack one, I receive a long and satisfying groan from anyone who hears it, so there is that. And as for how I found the book..."

Marinette looked around absently until she thought up a cover story. "When I was out on patro... I mean, walking around the streets... I saw my partn... I mean, university friend... reading it and I wanted to have a look. So, while they weren't reading it, I sneaked a peek and got the library reference number from the spine."

 _'Hold on,'_ Adrien thought to himself, _'there's another person reading this book?'_

"How about you?" she asked with a little sigh.

"SAME!" Adrien blurted out in a desperate moment of thought relapse.

A ' _shush_!' resounded through the Library.

Followed by a _'Shut up! We're trying to listen!'_ from the Librarians.

Adrien gave a hard glare to their small audience before continuing. "Either way," he said turning back to Marinette, "I'm glad I could finally know who was the other person borrowing this book was." He gave a chuckle and relaxed a little. "You know, there were so many times I wanted to sneak out of my house, completely ruin my schedule; just to find out who kept borrowing it."

That comment sent an ego-boosting shiver down every bone in Marinette's body. Adrien wanted to know who she was.

Marinette shifted again in her chair, thinking of the right way to ask her question. "So... so why didn't you?"

Adrien lent back in his chair and cocked his head in wonder. "Why I didn't run away? Now, that is a very serious question."

Although she was feeling very humbled by the fact that her crush was questioning his decision to not run after her, she had this tiny moment of wittiness. And for a split second, Marinette thought of something beautiful. In fact, it was so spontaneous and so brilliantly crafted that her body took over her mind and make her speak.

"Let me guess," Marinette said leaning back as well, getting a little more comfortable with his presence. "You couldn't visit my Library... because you didn't have the _Spine_?"

He let out a small snort and nodded approvingly, "I see what you did there, Dupain-Cheng. Very clever." Marinette cracked a confidence-growing smile. "But, it wasn't that I wasn't brave enough. There were many occasions I could have freely stormed into your Library," he continued, cracking his knuckles as he stared intently at her.

"Oh? And what would have happened if you did perchance visit my Library?" Marinette said raising her brow in a suave manner.

Forget Shy-Marinette! Pun-Marinette was on a roll!

Mere moments ago she was a babbling mess, and yet here she is, pulling her punches against her crush. Kind of like when she was competing with Chat Noir.

However, she wasn't ready for the onslaught Adrien was going to dish out.

"The first thing I would have done," he said, grinning from ear to ear, "was _Check Out_ whoever was borrowing the book."

She managed to stifle the laugh bubbling up in her stomach. Even Adrien had to hold his hand over his mouth to contain his giggling.

Marinette liked laughing like this.

 _'Maybe Pun-Adrien isn't so bad.'_


	41. Oktoberfest!

"I cannot eat another sausage, even if it kills me. Too much... too much German food. I think I may die."

Ladybug giggled at Chat Noir. He was laid back against the roof's slanted tiles and stretched out in the setting sunlight. It was a flawless afternoon; a good moderation of drinking, eating and feeling the springtime day float on by. Ladybug placed her beer stein down on the edge of the rooftop and let out a satisfied sigh. "One thing we can appreciate was that it was **_great_** food."

"Yeah, there is that." Chat Noir rolled over and curled up a little. Between them sat a small wicker basket, half empty of its sourdoughs, salamis, cheeses, olives, and sun-dried tomatoes. The adult boy felt like a little kitten laying in the sun after his perfect meal. "Ohh man, I cannot wait for next year's Oktoberfest," he complained, "it's basically the only time of the year we actually get a break for a drink."

Ladybug stretched her legs over the edge of the roof and laid back, content with the meal sitting in her stomach. "You really want to go through that whole ordeal again? I thought you said you weren't able to eat another sausage."

He let out a small chuckle and tapped his chin with a thoughtful grin, "Give me a week and I could eat an entire buffet. Heck, I could even eat one now if I had your lips for dessert."

He did an eyebrow wiggle and earned a laugh from Ladybug. She lent over and gave his shoulder a playful shove. "Stop kidding around, Chat."

"Hey! I am being dead serious," he joked. "If I wasn't under the influence of the tiniest bit of alcohol right now, I would smooch those lips with as much vigour as I used eating that wonderful meal you prepared."

Ladybug raised her eyebrow with a flirty smile. She put her fingers gently on the basket and used two of them to walk her hand over the rim of the wicker. "How about we make a deal."

"A deal?"

Ladybug played with the basket and proposed her idea. "Yeah, if you can make to the end of this Oktoberfest without touching another drop of beer, I have in mind to take you up on that offer of dessert."

It didn't take him long to respond. "You have yourself a deal."

He paused for a second, "Hold on, what if I don't keep my end of the bargain?"

"You'll miss out on these soft and beautiful lips that I know you daydream about," she teased.

Chat Noir took a small gulp.

"Guess I'm off the beer stein now," he muttered to himself.

Ladybug immediately stopped when she heard the feeling of loss in his voice. Maybe she had gone too far, she never really flirted before, was she doing it wrong?

"Wait, Chat. Are... are you okay with this? I mean, I don't want to ruin your only drinking break..."

She felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see Chat Noir smiling the same kind smile she grew to love.

"For you, I would give up breathing if it meant I got to make you happy."

Ladybug felt her heart flutter a little.

"Besides."

He took a deep breath.

"WHO NEEDS ALCOHOL WHEN I'M ALL _RYE-LED_ FOR THAT KISS."


	42. Pharaoh Repeated

The Ladyblog reporter, Alya Césaire, started her live feed and began her interactive report of the commotion behind her.

"The army of the akumatised mummies is once again waddling its way to the courtyard of the Louvre. The Pharaoh has been akumatised for the fifth time this month and is showing no signs of backing down. Chat Noir and Ladybug have arrived on the scene without delay, for they are here to protect us from this villain's grasp as they do so many times in the past. More coverage as the scene unfolds."

"Can't this guy get any new material?" Chat Noir complained as he crouched down on the roof's edge. Ladybug gave him a stern look and he quickly defended himself. "I mean, five times? In one month? Give me a break."

"You can't blame him for an angry life," Ladybug explained as she looked down past the swarming hench-mummies. "Not a single person has been akumatised without the help of Papillon, so he is to blame."

Chat Noir let out a heavy sigh. "Still, five times?"

"Regardless," she snapped at Chat Noir, "Jalil Kubdel must be stopped, even if it is for the fifth time this month. It is still our jobs to handle these situations."

"Yeah, but it feels more like a level-up grind in an RPG if you ask me." He groaned as he fell back against the tiles of the roof. "We just do the exact same thing over and over again; wait fifteen minutes for him to change everyone into a mummy, capture the mummies with a bus, metaphorically pull his pants down, then grab the charm and be on our way."

"You really want to use the bus tactic again?" Ladybug complained aloud. "I thought we were going to skip that part."

"Do you want three dozen mummies breathing down your neck when you call for the Lucky Charm?" He sarcastically raised a hand to his ear. "Hold on, did I hear a No?"

"What I am saying is, the process takes way too long!" she argued. "Every second we spend herding the mummies, the more time is wasted."

"Like how you suggested we wrap ourselves up in toilet paper and pretend to act like as mummies last time?"

"Stop it, Chat." Ladybug rubbed her cheeks and groaned, "Let's just get this over with."

"The old-bus technique it is then."

"I hate the old-bus technique," she muttered under her breath.

Chat Noir had enough. He stood up, turned on heel, and pointed at the villain starting his rampage against the buildings.

"You don't want to use an old-bus?" he said with a harsh steel voice. "Then I leave you with the utmost privilege of distracting the villain... _A-new-bus_."


	43. Rough as Stone

_"XY is a fraud!"_ Jagged aggressively sang as he strummed the guitar with an angry vigour. _"A couple hundred euro for a ticket to his show? Come on! Who pays that much!? Who pays that much!?"_

Marinette took a small gulp. Although the guitar was set a low volume setting, the bizarre noise emanating from rockstar's room was extraordinarily loud today. She turned his attention to his personal assistant, Penny Rolling.

The woman with deep purple hair shook her head slightly to indicate the severity of Mr Jagged's temper today. Marinette silently nodded back. Best to leave the famous rock singer to his ranting.

* * *

"Well, there goes my meeting..." she groaned down at her phone. Marinette had planned for a whole hour session with the musician for a tailored fitting. Now that her meeting had gone to waste, she had nothing to do the afternoon.

She could go back to her apartment and eat lunch again... or just walk around the city for a bit...

That was when Adrien called.

"Marinette!" the phone spoke in the model's voice, "Hey, are you free right now?"

"Umm... Yeah, yeah I am. Coincidentally I just got dropped from another tailoring session with Jagged Stone. He's having another angry guitar playing fit."

"They dropped you? Again?" the phone speaker sympathetically shouted. "They can't keep doing this to you Marinette! You love that job!"

She quickly played it off as if it were nothing, that the whole matter didn't really affect her emotionally, but she knew it was going to happen again. "It's fine, Adrien. I get the afternoon off anyway. Hey, did you want to do something with me?"

"Yeah! I wanna kick Jagged's behind for not letting you do what he's supposed to pay you for!"

"Adrien!" Marinette gasped. "I'm surprised at you! Sure, the man has his temper tantrums, but it won't matter if you boot him off the stage, he will still be Jagged Stone!"

"Jagged Stone, the man who pleas for the fans and weeps for the revenue?" She could hear Adrien getting really riled up over the matter. "You know, as your personal friend, I think you should quit."

"Quit? Over a silly little thing like his on and off seasons?"

"Marinette, from what you've told me about your job, he has more off-seasons than he does on..."

Marinette fell quiet after Adrien said this. She knew he was right; Jagged wasn't the easiest client she's encountered. She could barely get any work done when half the time he is holed up in a room.

Maybe she should quit...

"And come to think about it," he continued, "I know why he had these little hissy fits. He is a solo rockstar! They think they can get away with half of anything! Now, singing, and maybe playing in a band, I can tolerate in musicians. But when it is just a guitarist... they **_fret_** over every bothersome qualm that is laid out before their feet!"


	44. Online Shopping

"Adrien, honey, what's wrong?" Marinette innocently asked the blonde tearing page after page out of a large volume.

The contents of the book were empty, yet Adrien furiously tore out its blank pages with blind madness.

"Everything! Everything is wrong!" He picked up the book and threw it across the room. It made a heavy thump against the wall and remained still after it hit the ground.

"I ordered this giant thesaurus online and look at the condition it is in! NONE OF THE PAGES HAVE A SINGLE WORD IN THEM!"

Marinette bent down and examined the white sheets of torn paper while Adrien kept shouting.

"That was book was not cheap might I add. I was so looking forward to using it. But NO. It had to be ruined."

He sat down in his desk chair and slapped his face into his hands. " _I cannot find the words to describe how angry I am right now!_ "

* * *

 **A.N.**

Hello! I'm back with the short chapter, mainly because when I think of these, they are on the fly.

Here is a foreclosure and warning; _while_ I have pumped out forty-four of these monstrosities, I have almost depleted my reserves of content.  
I do have one future chapter as a wip, which I will get to. But for the next two weeks, I will be preoccupied with a miraculous event.  
If you wish to join, the event is entitled 'Nathaniel Appreciation Week' and it is being hosted by Wearemiraulous (Seasonofthegeek) on Tumblr.

I am going to do a Chlonath story, and hopefully, it will be awesome.  
I'll cross post on Ao3 and here.

SEEYA


	45. Sneaky Kitten

Marinette pushed open the trapdoor leading into her room and let it soft-close behind her. She laid the rolls of new material on her desk and set herself down to start her work.

All the while she worked, a certain leather-clad hero stealthily crept through the open window, unbeknownst to the hard-working teenager. His gentle footfalls barely made any sound and he made it vital to step only on the carpeted floor. Marinette didn't suspect a thing.

Chat Noir clamped his hand over Marinette's eyes and pulled her away from the table a little. She let out a startled cry, but quickly grabbed his arm and pushed against his torso, sending him to the floor while she landed roughly on his chest. She spun around and twisted his arm around behind him, getting him into a restraining position.

"UNCLE! PLEASE! UNCLE!" he cried out as she started wrapping her leg around his forearm. She quickly apologised while she loosened her death grip on his wrist and untangled herself from the hero's body. He coughed and wheezed a little before turning to the girl.

"Yikes, Marinette! What the heck!?"

She smacked the back of his head with a stern grit on her teeth, "Idiot! You know I'm jumpy when people sneak up on me! I can't simply turn off the super-human Ladybug reflexes, and you well know I could have broken your arm had I not stopped myself."

His ears drooped a little and he cradled his elbow.

Marinette let out a sigh as she fell back onto her haunches, "How the in the good name of all thing quiet did you manage to get behind me without my noticing is what I want to know."

He perked up a little.

"I think it may be a new feature of my armour..." He held out a hand to Marinette. "Have a feel; the texture's different from before."

She gave him a destained look before rubbing a finger over his palm. Marinette instantly picked up on the material.

"Real leather? Like, not even the old suit leather, just real black cow leather?"

"Yeah," he piped up, "I think it may have boosted my sneaking abilities a couple dozen times"

"How?"

He slowly pulled back his hand and tucked his arms up into a defensive position before speaking in a soft and meek voice.

"Because it's literally made of _Hide_?"

...

"Please don't hurt me again."


	46. Birds of a feather

" _CAWR_! I will annihilate this city and all its inhabitants for stirring the natural order of birds! _CAWR_!"

Chat's face drooped with allergies as he tried to hold back another sneeze. Ladybug had yet to arrive and he was busy with trying to fend off the villain named 'The Crow You Know'.

" _MAWR_! I will attack this foolish boy with everything I've got! _MAWR_!" the villain shouted as he plunged from the sky and dove head first towards Chat Noir. Honestly, Mr Pigeon was a better opponent than ' _The Crow You Know_ '. Granted, he could fly, but he didn't have an army at his disposal.

Chat was dealing with fewer feathers bombarding his senses now. But whenever he got near to the villain, his nose would cause havoc.

Ladybug arrived on the scene and met up with the sniffling boy.

"What's the case?" she asked.

"Male, 46, akumatised since roughly six in the morning, loved bird watching and strove to be one."

"A birdwatcher?"

Chat shook his head, "A bird."

Ladybug nodded, a little dumbfounded at the idea. "And what are his powers?"

"Flight, repeating words like 'CAWR' and 'MAWR' over and over again, razor-sharp talons, and just a titch of egotistical craziness."

"So, basically he's a birdman."

"Yep."

"Have you found out the reason he was akumatised?"

"People mistook a crow for another, equally black and just as annoying, bird."

"So?"

"He flipped his lid and got _Raven mad..._ "

* * *

 **A.N.**

Ladies and Gentlemen,  
It has come to the time where there are no more chapters left in the reserve. This is the last one.  
Until I write another, this is going to be the last one for a long time.  
Please share this story, I would like to make a community from this with room for suggestions of future chapters!  
Side note: Send me a pm or review with an idea in mind and you can be featured.  
So with this, I bid thee adieu.

Follow me on Tumblr ~ Cherisher-ao3  
Archive of our own ~ Cherisher


	47. Beach Day

Chat Noir pushed the sunglasses up his masked nose and admired the setting sun that lazed itself over the beach's horizon. His black armour morphed into a swimsuit just for the occasion, shrinking at the legs until they came up to the thigh, and his boots and gloves disappearing in the warmth of the radiant sun.

The beach was an awesome get-away experience to have with his fellow teammates. They have most certainly earned their rest.

He spun heel in the sand and turned his attention to his little entourage of superheroes. "Where the heck are we?" he says bluntly.

Queen Bee jeered at the Cat Boy, "You tell us, Chat Noir. You drove us here."

Paon and Carapace worked on unloading the small beach van of their luggage. Ladybug and Rena sat on the roof and scoured the beach for any signs of their reservations.

Queen Bee wasn't doing squat.

"Aye, but where is our hotel?" Chat Noir asked as he rose his hand to scan a full three hundred and sixty degrees from his position. "The flyer said it was right on the beach."

Ladybug spoke up from the roof of the van, "How many hotels must we see before we actually settle down for the night? This is like, the fifteenth one today that we've visited. We are not going to find this 'Perfect' one you ramble on about."

"I agree with the bug on this one, Chat Noir," Rena Rouge commented as she rose her binoculars to her eyes, "I can see no 'Perfect beachside hotel' for miles. I see regular beachside hotels, but no perfect ones."

Both Paon and Carapace turned around and spoke up in unison, "Let's just go to one of those and be done with this."

"Yeah! Let's go there!" Queen Bee complained, "I am tired, there is sand in my honeycomb sandals, and I really want a shower."

Everyone was waiting upon his decision, staring at their driver to finalise their course of action.

Chat Noir ran his hand through his hair, bothered by the heavy decision of either missing out on the awesome hotel or giving up and staying in another one.

...

"WE KEEP PUSHING FORWARD! WE WILL FIND THAT BEACH-SIDE HOTEL!"

Everyone in the team groaned, and loudly.

Paon and Carapace mumbled dejectedly to themselves as they re-packed the van.

Queen Bee stormed off back to the front seat.

Rena Rouge rolled off the roof and shuffled her way back to the sliding door.

Ladybug walked over to Chat Noir, and calmly placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Do you really think this is the best idea?" she asked him.

He smiled sympathetically, "Of course it is, I know this trip is going to be great if we stay in that hotel."

"But why not the one near town?" she pleaded. Ladybug switched on her adorable mode and focused her attack on the heart of Chat Noir. He couldn't say no to her when she acted in a cutesy way.

After a soft sigh, he gave into her ways.

"I promise, we will only keep looking for the perfect beachside hotel for fifteen minutes," he compromised.

Her face lit up a little.

"But! Only after the fifteen minutes, I repeat, _only after the fifteen minutes_ , will we **stop** looking for the perfect beachside hotel."

"And then we stay at a non-perfect one?" she asked, clasping her hands in anticipation.

He gave a heavy sigh.

"Yes, that will be our _last resort._ "


	48. Sew Sew Sew your boat

"I have to hold this pose for how long?" Adrien complained.

Marinette slipped another piece of cotton lining under his arms and wrapped it around his torso. "Just until I have this piece completed - only then - can you move."

Adrien let out a groan but kept his arms up in a mannequin fashion. Marinette was a good friend, and Adrien was a good friend in return. Good friends did things for each other, and Adrien was stuck being the model for her new designs.

He did get cookies, which was a big bonus.

But standing in the same position for ages and ages, it can take a toll on literally anyone.

Adrien was born into the fashion industry and he was used to having to stay quiet during fittings. Always keeping quiet, not complaining, not moving, not eating cookies, not being able to scratch his tiring legs...

 _AHH,_ he thought to himself, _My toes are starting to go numb._

"Marinette? I am feeling a little uncomfortable... could I move around a little bit?" he pleaded, but she was too focused on the stitching on the outer pant leg to reply.

Adrien sucking a breath and looked absently around the room, trying to distract himself from the uneasy sensation crawling up his leg. His circulation felt dead; the first symptoms of his legs falling asleep. He had to do something and quick.

"OUCH, MARINETTE!" he feined harm. It was a ruse to get her attention, the pain had actually settled in yet, but he had to move before it did.

She flicked her eyes up and froze.

"Did I stab you?" she said worriedly and a little shakily.

"No," Adrien grumbled as he slowly moved his muscles around. A shooting pain exploded up his leg, ceasing the bones rigid and forcing him to groan with pain.

"No," he quipped after a short breath through his teeth, "You didn't stab me with a needle, you're very careful with that."

"What's is it? Can I help? What do you need?"

"Nope! It's nothing. Just staying in this position for so long, while you're working on fixing all the material," he reached down and squeezed his thigh.

"There happens to be a lot of _pins and needles_."

* * *

 **A.N.**

I am making the fiftieth chapter dedicated to the readers, so if you so wish, you too can contribute

Leave a suggestion for a topic, theme, thing, joke, or scenario that you wish to see in the comments and I will have a look at what I can do!


	49. Tom and Chat have a pun off

"HAHAHAHA," Tom roared as he planted his fists on his hips, "That may have been a brilliant one, but you have not bested me yet, Chat Noir!"

"I will defeat you in all your glory, Mr Dupain-Cheng!" Chat Noir rose a leg and struck a pose as he assumed a battle position, ready to continue the contest of puns.

Marinette and Sabine sat off to the side, exasperated expressions on their face as the men went at it again. Every pun that flew across the room acted as a blow to the opponent, a war between the master of puns and an actual father-figure.

Sabine leaned over and whispered to her daughter, "Do you think they will ever stop?"

Marinette gave a sad sigh before whispering back. "No, unfortunately; so we are going to be here a long time. Might as well get comfortable."

* * *

Tom's head lolled with exhaustion, his arms shaking as he finger-guns the air. He falls to his knees, "Take... That... You... You... Cat... Man..." he said in between heavy breaths.

Chat Noir was on all fours, trying to catch his breath too.

"I... Will... Not... Give... Up... Just... Yet..."

The two women on the sidelines looked very glumly at the poor boys. They had gone at this war for over an hour, the game losing all its meaning when the two opponents could barely speak with the level of fatigue.

Marinette gave Sabine a pitiful grimace, no one wanted to see two full grown men in this state. Sabine could very easily agree.

They stood from their chairs and walked slowly over to Tom and Chat Noir.

"Honey," Sabine says quietly as she laid a hand on Tom's shoulder, "We need to get up early tomorrow."

"Chat Noir," Marinette said just a little bluntly, "Please get out of our house. My dad is a baker and he needs his sleep."

The blond looked up past his sweat-soaked hair and towards the man he so wanted to beat in the game of bad comedy. Tom was physically beat, but he hadn't conceded defeat to Chat Noir just yet. The battle was still going.

However, he then looked up at Marinette, who had a stern glare trained on his eyes.

"I will be back, Tom," Chat Noir started as he slowly rosed from off the ground, "and I will finish this fight, once you have your strength back."

Tom gave a small chuckle, a grin spreading across his face as he suddenly thought of his finishing blow.

"Strength? I don't need strength to beat you, Chat Noir." He rose one arm and pointed accusingly at the boy. "I am a Baker! No matter how many puns you throw my way, I will use my skills in making bread to overpower you!"

Chat Noir staggered to his feet.

"No matter what you say," Tom said with a wicked smile, "I am just going to _roll_ with it."

* * *

 **A.N.**

WOAH A double upload? WHAT IS THIS MADNESS?  
You better get those suggestions cracking! Simply leave a comment with the idea that you want to be featured!  
Have a favourite Headcanon? Throw that one in!  
Saw something random today? Tell me about it!  
So you think you can dance? You're an all star!

The fiftieth chapter is up to yooooooooooooou


	50. Le Roi Danse - The King is Dancing

"Knees bent!"

Master Fu slapped Nathaniel's thigh with the end of the cane, resulting in a satisfying crack. The well-struck blow tipped Nathaniel's balance off the edge and he fell to his knees.

"You are more than just a boy now, young Nathaniel," Fu said as he slowly paced around the room, tapping the stick in a small circle around the fallen dancer. "You must be diligent, respected, balanced, and most importantly, unwavering."

Nathaniel could feel the sting of the cane throbbing inside the back of his leg. The small welt forming on the inside of his knee was going to be another bruise he would have to explain to his mother.

"You cannot become the holder of the Peacock Miraculous without the proper balance of a Ballet Dancer," Fu said as he took one final step in front of Nathaniel.

He turned on his heel and hunched down to speak to his student's face.

"If you cannot dance… you cannot survive."

Nathaniel sucked in a deep breath and stood once more. For the entire morning, Master Fu had Nathaniel stretching and limbering up his torso, legs, arms, everything. It was all was just one big ridiculous exercise that would help him in his 'Training'.

Apparently, Nathaniel thought sourly, you needed to meet these stupid criteria points in order to become a hero. Some stuck up rules like: you have to be fit, healthy, able to keep up with the team - all useless stuff!

The only benefit from this stupid lesson was pain relief from the therapeutic yoga he also had to do.

But why was Ballet a requirement? Nathaniel could understand the concept of being strong to be a good hero, but why would prancing around on a stage have anything to do with fighting? Honestly, Nathaniel had had enough. He was going to finally make his move and prove himself to his so-called 'Miraculous Trainer'.

"Hey, old man," Nathaniel huffed angrily.

His sky blue eyes pierced through locks of red hair and jabbed their gaze into the elderly man's pride. He lifted his leg and brought it thundering around his body towards the small man's chest.

Master Fu - as quick as lightning - simply lifted his hand and caught Nathaniel's aggressive roundhouse kick. In the split-second he had, Nathaniel could see a crinkly smile spreading across the old man's face.

What happened next was a blur, but somehow the hero-in-training ended up on the floor with one leg pulled up past his head and both arms tangled under his shirt. His hair was suddenly tied up in a bun and there was an unusual message printed across his forehead in black ink.

The words 'Foolish Student' were expertly written in neat calligraphy, signed with the name 'Master Fu wayzz here'.

The frail, centuries-old Chinese Master rocked his shoulder as he cricked his arm.

He wore a big grin on his face, pulling at his muscles and groaning slightly. "Oof, that did a number on me. Good try though."

Nathaniel unknotted his own limbs and sat up, cross-legged on the matted floor of Fu's small dance hall. He furiously rubbed at the black ink on his forehead, removing the evidence of his embarrassment.

Every single time he'd tried to strike Master Fu he had earned another demeaning title across his forehead. Last week it was 'Uncoordinated Pupil'. The week before that one was 'Loud-mouth Wannabe'. It grew tiresome, but the lesson hit home every time. Once the ink was surely gone, Nathaniel pulled the bun loose and let his hair back over his eyes.

Fu stretched a little more before finally turning back to the dejected hero-in-training. He bent down again and chuckled heartily.

"So..." he said lackadaisically, "do you want to fight someone who won't floor you in three seconds?"

Nathaniel rolled his eyes before nodding reluctantly.

"Heh, thought so."

Fu straightened before grabbing his cane off the floor. He turned towards the double doors on the side of the room and called out in a knowing tone, "He's ready for you!"

As if on cue, through the doors came a tall, lean-looking blonde in black heels and a superhero suit. Nathaniel's mouth dropped a little, but he closed it before she could notice.

"Good evening, Master Fu," Queen Bee greeted the elderly man, "I trust everything is going smoothly?"

She didn't even acknowledge the quiet dancer on the floor. Like he was invisible or something. Nathaniel's eyes did a quick scan of the hero while she talked to the trainer. Queen Bee had this air of dominance about her; like the way she always kept a hand on her hip, the way her ponytail stopped just before her shoulders; it felt surreal. Even her heels seemed to be just that little bit deadly.

"As smoothly as they can be," Fu replied to the tall woman.

With that last comment, Master Fu nodded happily and slowly walked out of the room.

"I will leave him in your capable hands, Queen Bee. Try not to mess him up too bad."

The doors slammed shut, isolating Nathaniel and Queen Bee in the room together.

There was a brief exchange of glances; interrupted by an awkward cough from Nathaniel.

It wasn't until Queen Bee made the first move that anything actually happened.

"You wanted to fight or what?"

* * *

Master Fu let out a long and exhausted sigh as he sat down in the viewing chair. His bones felt old, as did his muscles. Chat Noir reached over and offered him a paper cup of coffee.

"Do you think he's ready to fight her?" the leather-clad hero asked, setting the drink into his master's hands.

Fu took a sip of the coffee and leaned back into the chair, gazing through the two-way mirror and at the students inside. Nathaniel still sat on the floor while Queen Bee, or Chloé Bourgeois, stood to the side in an impatient manner.

Fu let out a tired sigh before propping his elbow against the armrest, his fingers massaging his left temple while he waited for the scene to unfold before him.

"Let's hope he uses his training to survive the first five minutes."

* * *

"Up," Queen Bee ordered Nathaniel. "Get on your feet so I can show you how it's done."

She quietly took off her high heels and set them to the side, replacing them with a pair of well-worn black Pointe shoes. Black wasn't traditional for a girl, but they suited her. Nath observed her mannerisms; she didn't seem like she was getting ready for a fight when she was lacing them up. But it didn't matter, this was supposed to be a battle and he didn't care what type of shoes she wore.

Nathaniel heaved himself off the floor, sighed, and raised his fists in anticipation for the match.

The blonde hero gave a sudden chuckle before cracking her neck and stretching her arms. "Lower those fists, boy. I want this to be a lesson, not a total beat down."

Queen Bee stretched her arms a little more before moving to her legs, skillfully limbering up in a professional manner. "Tonight, we're having a dance-off."

"Is that so?" Nathaniel countered, now fully aware why the hero was putting on the different shoes.

He nodded knowingly before he began stretching alongside her, reaching past places he usually never stretched.

"Well, that does put a damper on our relationship."

Queen Bee looked up from extending her leg out in a half-split, amused by but skeptical of his statement.

"How now?" she asked with an interested expression.

He stood tall and raised himself on one foot, reaching the crescendo of his strength in his outstretched toes, performing a near perfect en pointe stance.

"I would hate to beat you," Nathaniel said clearly and calmly, his voice unwavering through the mastered exercise. "You seem so nice."

Queen Bee copied his movements, standing on tippitoe with both feet, matching his en pointe and slowly spinning around him with quick steps. Her arms drifted gently through the air, similar to how the soft breeze shifts the grass in a gentle manner. Somehow, her movements felt like they were mocking Nathaniel, calling him out to do better. The motions were fluid, precise, and yet effortless. A stark contrast to his rustic transitions.

She spun and bowed, dainty with a hint of deadly.

"Shall we?" she asked him while offering a delicate hand.

"We shall," he responded, taking her hand in his.

Queen Bee was the first to move, sparking an amalgamation of close calls, near misses, and sharp blocking skills.

Legs soared through the air as the two pranced across the room, each bent on landing a blow or knocking the feet from under their opponent.

Nathaniel liked to use his open palms more than his fists but Chloe was too fast for that. Her reaction time was finely tuned through months of practice, so she could easily dodge his hands being thrown around. And whenever he performed a high kick, she would be able to leap almost clear of his head and dodge the attack completely.

A menacing energy connected the two dancers. Their movements became one as they shifted between each other's attacks. Swift and decisive, Nathaniel and Queen Bee, Red and Yellow. It was a symphony of actions, a dance similar to a flickering fire or a stream of cool water.

Nathaniel was thrown against the wall, Queen Bee's leg smashing the brickwork up past his head. She pinned him back with her right leg standing almost flush to his body. She leaned forward a little as her breath rose up and down in short pants.

"You are quite the dancer." She reached up and pulled out the black hair tie that held back her ponytail, letting the gold sea rush down her shoulders.

He eyed her foot, resting mere centimetres from his left ear. "Umm, you too."  
Nathaniel pushed off the wall and returned her attack with an advancement of his own. A spin and a kick, a flip and twist, he accelerated his ballet movements towards her.

* * *

Master Fu watched intensely. His two brightest students fought without rest, not stopping for a single second to read their opponent.

He sighed, anxious for the finishing result of the battle. There was only one other time he'd had to pit two students against each other. The result of that battle being the Chat Noir and Ladybug duo, his greatest achievement from the hero training initiative.

But what if it all went pear-shaped? What if the power Nathaniel and Chloe possessed corrupted their bond, destroying their future together?

He had to make these two form an unbreakable rivalry, a competition they could use to better themselves. Their teamwork together depended on this very fight. And all he could do was sit back and wait for the outcome.

* * *

The room was silent. Only the occasional grunt from each opponent, or the thud of a Grande Jeté landing, interrupted their Pas de Deux. The duo continued the dance of attacks, even as their bodies grew weak from fatigue. If anything, they moved faster.

Queen Bee's high kicks flew with great precision, her arms reaching out to provide the perfect inertial counterbalance to her moves. Nathaniel found it increasingly difficult to keep up with her growing speed. He had to finish the fight soon; he wouldn't be able to keep his defence if they continued any further.

Queen Bee devoted all her attacks to speed, spinning gracefully on one foot as the boy backed away from her in panic. Her head would flick with each turn, allowing her blue eyes to stay fixed on his. Nathaniel had to retreat, taking step after step backwards as she advanced on him.  
And then he spotted it; her legs were momentarily unprotected.

Nathaniel had a crazy idea, but if he could pull it off, it meant he might have a fleeting chance at victory. If he could momentarily fall back and bent his legs, dropping down in a small crouch before jutting his leg out and swiping at her ankles, he could possibly take her out in one attack.

Nathaniel would have to trust his body wholly with this move, for if he failed, he wouldn't be able to get back up in time to block her next attack.

Commit... or quit...

He made up his mind and dropped down, landing harshly on one ankle - all before throwing his leg out in her direction.

Queen Bee's attack fell as his foot made contact. The black satin shoes showed little resistance against the laminate floor and provided her with no grip to trust upon. Her expression turned from one of concentration to pure shock as she fell through the air. Her arms flailed, seeking purchase, but she fell back without anything to support her.  
The battle concluded with the thud of her rear end hitting the floor. And everything became quiet once again.

Finally, for the first time in a few solid minutes, Nathaniel could actually breathe without having to worry about her combo Pirouette attacks or her intimidating glare. This short-lived victory was enough for him.

"Rude," Queen Bee said from the floor. Her arms were crossed and she looked furious. "Some dancer you turned out to be."

He flicked his exhausted gaze towards her.

"Excuse me?" Nathaniel said with his head cocked at a sideways angle as he furrowed his brow. "You're telling me that _I'm_ the bad dancer?"

An annoyed glare met the redhead. She rose from the floor and began taking off her black gloves, muttering under her breath, "Real mature, kicking my legs out from underneath me. I'm leaving."

"Wait!" he shouted as he jumped up off the floor and took a step towards her.

The weight of his body pushed down on his ankle, straining the already fatigued tendons. Nathaniel felt a twinge run up through his leg, it was only small but it was soon followed by a shooting pain that coursed all the way through to his ankle. He cried out and fell to the floor, grabbing at his shin on the way down.

"GAH THAT HURTS!"

Queen Bee disregarded her previous statement and quickly rushed from the door to his side.

"What happened? Did you hurt yourself in that last fall? We need someone to look at that injury before it gets any worse! Let me see it!"

* * *

"I said, _sit down Chat Noir_ , they do not need our help." Master Fu glared at the hero sternly, clutching his cane handle in both hands.

"But he's hurt! We need someone to look at that ankle."

"I said, sit!"

Chat Noir sat.

Master Fu collected himself and let out a long cool breath. He turned his attention back to Chat Noir and slowly explained the situation.

"This is a vital point in their training together. This," he pointed his cane to the room through the two-way mirror, "is their bonding moment. Do not **dare** interrupt them."

Chat Noir looked at Nathaniel and Queen Bee. Chloe was doing a good job looking after him. Nathaniel was in pain, but Chat could sense he had a newfound feeling for her. This injury could be their bonding moment after all.

"So what happens now?"

Master Fu sighed. "I was hoping young Nathaniel wouldn't hurt himself; it was such an easy move to execute. So I decree he will continue his training. Queen Bee will also be part of that training."

"Wait," Chat Noir interrupted the old man, "you think he could have pulled that move off?"  
Fu shrugged. "It was a simple slip, he didn't use the right point of his foot to catch himself, that is all."

Chat Noir sat back in his chair, a little dumbfounded at his Master's reaction. "Becoming Paon must be really hard to achieve; having to learn Ballet... fighting whilst dancing... dealing with that level of stress would kill me."

Master Fu nodded. "The Peacock Miraculous is indeed a very difficult role to fill. But, with this form of muscle training, with all this complicated ballet experience and flexibility under his belt..."

"...this will help him stay alert and _will keep him on his toes_."

* * *

A.N.

Hehehehehe, I loved writing this chapter.

Thank you for reading!

And Special Thanks to _Alexandra Elf_ and _SapphireDragon4437_  
I chose their prompts and mixed them together a little ;P


	51. Here kitty kitty kitty

Adrien turned into a black cat!

The sensation of the transformation was disturbing. It felt like his toes curled and his legs grew new joints, his arms and hands following closely behind them. His body shrunk and became lighter, the feline figure taking over his human form and forcing him on all fours. Fur had already begun to grow as soon as the process started, covering him head to toe with the black sea of silky darkness. His pupils slowly slitting in the noonday sunlight and his teeth grew sparse and sharp.

Once the involuntary transformation was completed, Adrien felt the need to stretch his body, pulling at the new cat muscles. Walking was a little weird to begin with, kind of like a drunk's wobble or a newborn child's first steps, but he got the hang of it soon enough. One major change was the tail.

Woah, _he had a tail_. That was new.

Suddenly he heard a voice, a female voice, a friend's voice. "Hey, little kitty, are you lost?"

Adrien turned his tiny body and looked up, his pure green eyes glimmering brightly as he silently pleaded for her assistance.

He smiled. It was his friend, Marinette, the lovely baker girl that helps everyone and everything. She wouldn't hurt a fly. He was sitting right outside her family's bakery, so she was dressed in her normal clothes but with a long white apron to match.

Marinette picked him up and held him to her chest, "And what's your name, then? You have a bell collar, oh, but no tag."

Adrien was started to get nervous now, she started to pat his back and she was getting a little too chummy. He loved his affectionate petting, but only from his lady and when he was in human form.

"Well, we'll have to name you then, shall we?" she said as she scratched the top of his head. As much as he didn't like the experience of being a miniature Chat Noir, did he ever love those head scratches. Like just the way she uses her nail to get into that one place, he could enjoy that for hours.

"Well, you could be named Chat Noir, but that would be too stereotypical for a fine creature like yourself."

She gave him a quick glance over, "Well, you are as black as Coal. But the fur on your back is so soft, therefore you need a softer name."

"Hmm," she mulled it over a little while she scratched him into ecstasy, "Coal - Fire - Ambers - Burning wood - Soot!"

She held him up to eye height and addressed him by his new name, "I'm going to name you Soot!"

Adrien gave an eye roll in his cat form.

"Oh come on! It is so _soot_ able for you!"


	52. The Classics

"That was very, very foolish of you, M'lady. What you did that day was... beyond foolish. You could have got yourself killed, and then where would we be?" Chat Noir sighed as he continued to mutter to her unconscious body. "Here I am, talking to myself while you sleep away the endless days, the endless nights; they don't stop passing by, M'lady. Please, please wake up, Ladybug. _Please..._ "

He felt a shudder run through his shoulders and down his shaking arms. She just lay there, alive but motionless. Unmoving on the floor. Somehow, she looked so peaceful.

His eyes felt sore, rubbed raw in the first few days of the incident. It only took him a week to lose all his strength, he refused to eat, to drink, to sleep; adamant to stay by her side.

He would busy himself with portrait carvings, scratching at pieces of wood with his claws. They would often be of her; her face, her details, her hands, her piercing eyes. He lost count of how many images he drew, but he would always take them away and burn them.

Burning the images served as a reminder, he had to remind himself that Ladybug could disappear at any moment. She could be gravely ill, she could only have a flicker of life left, she could be as right as rain, but it tore him apart that he didn't know. But this was no time for delusions, he had to keep hold of the reality that could befall him.

She could die.

"The funniest thing happened today, Ladybug," he whispered into the open air, his voice echoing in the large and empty window-lit attic of an abandoned warehouse. "I... I wanted to see the sunshine glow on your dark raven hair... Because I wanted to test my abilities with shadows for these images I create every day." He swallowed. "Because I thought to myself, I could make you even more beautiful in my illustrations."

"And while I was marking the details of each individual hair, I realised..."

His face dropped even further and he stopped scratching into the wood.

"The sun shines, in the same way, every day... and you still remain in the same place, in the same way, every day..."

"Nothing has changed."

" _ **Nothing**_ _has changed!_ "

He threw the piece of wood across the room in anger. He wanted to stay angry, to be furious at himself for not being able to do anything. But his strength did not permit him, he fell back onto the box he used as a chair, and he cried.

The tears wouldn't stop until his emotions dulled into nothingness, the void filling his gut as he reminded himself of his crisis. So his body shook with the sobs, and his eyes clamped shut while they shed their hot tears. His fingers hugged his mouth and his body curled up in misery.

"Chat..."

His eyes flew open, and the tears stopped.

"Is that really you, M'Lady?" He lifted himself off the box and knelt down beside her body. "Was that really you? Did you say my name?"

Slowly, her eyes lifted their veil and she turned her head to give him a soft smile.

"I'm here, Chat."

His hands shook with joy as he slowly reached forward and took her into his arms. His breath quivered as he hugged her tightly, choking on the tears that came from his absolute happiness.

"I'm glad you're okay," he whispered. He pulled back and gave her a worried look over. "You are okay, right?"

She gave a little giggle and he acted to worry even further, "No bumbs or owies or booboos I should be aware of?"

"No, Chat," she said with a smile, "I am completely fine."

He gave one last sigh, and it was a sigh of relief.

"I'm just so glad you're back..."

"Me too, kitty."

They wrapped themselves in each other's embrace as the frenzied feelings slowly died down. He was no longer alone.

He pulled back once more.

"You sure you're _Feline_ okay?"

"Chat."

"No need for a _Purramedic?_ "

"Chat."

"Just want to be _Pawsitive_."

"Chat!"

"Alright, alright! I'll stop now... But I will have you know, I'm _Hiss_ terical."

* * *

 **A.N.**

Excuse me for stooping to the level of cat puns once more  
Thank you to our resident pun contributor, sandwormsladybugs on tumblr, for the lovely prompt  
Which I "accidentally" turned to angst

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	53. Settle Down Children

**A.N.**

This chapter is going to be about the friendship between Adrien and Chloe.  
I enjoyed how - while Chloe is annoying as heck - Adrien will be the friend she needs when no one else will.  
So we are going back in time a little, to back when they were children, just little babs who grew into friends.

* * *

"Why, hello there, little girl," Adrien piped in a slow, lowish, bear-like voice. His child hands held the toy bear out in front of his body, using his fingers to move his arms as he pretended to speak as if he were the bear, "My name is Mr Cuddly. How are you today?"

Chloe let out an adorable giggle and rocked forward on her crossed legs. "Mr Cuddly, you are my bestest fwiend. I love you to itty bitty pieces!"

"Heeheeheeheeheeheehee," Adrien chuckled as deeply as he could, "I love you too, my little Chlo Chlo."

Chloe squealed with joy, clapping her small hands as her cheeks turned rosy pink with laughter.

The cream-coloured teapot that sat in the middle of the floor remained empty of any contents, but Chloe began pouring an imaginary drink into each little teacup.

The entire tea set laid out in front of them was made of fine china, and Chloe was using each piece with masterful skill like she was taught. Each saucer was a light creamy yellow with the edge trimmed in a black. The cups sported a few horizontal black stripes with a yellow base.

She wore a wonderfully made dress, its design matched with the teapot, the little saucers, and the little cups. The faint orange lower half puffed out with frills, filling the dress' underside with white lace. The midsection featured the black and yellow stripes, quite like the design of a little bee, and her shoulder's wore short white puffed up sleeves.

Adrien, who sat behind the yellow teddy bear, wore a cutesy untucked button-up, with a dark blue cashmere v-neck and a pair of lighter blue pants. His orange shoes nicely contrasted with the different blues of the outfit, and the overall shabby look of his tiny attire made him look eqaully as adorable.

"More tea, Mr Cuddly?" she asked the bear as she gently lifted the teapot. "Maybe a biscuit?"

"Oh no! I cannot have anymore!" Adrien shifted the paws of the teddy to rub his white stomach patch.

Chloe slowly lowered the pot and gave the bear a questioning look. "What do you mean?"

Adrien moved Mr Cuddly from his lap and giggled.

"Becasue I'm absolutely _stuffed_!"

Chloe's voice rose in a fit of laughter, Adrien joining her as both their cheeks glowed with childish glee.


	54. Tiny Chapter of their lives

"I loves you."

"I gives you all the loves."

"I gives you the _flours_."

*Holds out multiple sacks of flour*

"I loves you the more."

"I wants you to gives me the kissies."

"I will gives you the kissies."

"Muah."

"Mauh."

"We loves each others very much."

"Yes, yes we does."

* * *

 **A.N.**

With no context, you know exactly who said what and who did what.

Or you could almost insert anyone into this

Just lazy writing, and bad writing, and bad grammar, with no story or scene, or characters.

Meh

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	55. Show me ya moves

"Two steps forward, one step back," Chat Noir commented after her small underhand spin. "Keep it going, don't forget the flow."

The two heros glided along the rooftops of Paris, moving along to the inconsistent sounds of midnight traffic. Lights would flare beneath them, yellow splashes among dimly lit path.

"Watch your feet. There's a gap."

Ladybug gently hopped over the building's crevasse, smiling giddily as they continued to waltz down the roof. The patrol that night seemed dull for the two Parisian heroes, and to liven it up, Chat Noir decided to teach Ladybug how to dance.

With class and style.

Ladybug wrapped her arms around her partner's neck, pulling him close as they floated across the hidden routes they only knew.

"How on earth do you know how to watlz, Chat Noir?" She played a coy smile. "I thought you were a stray."

He cocked his eyebrows with amusement.

"It wasn't easy, mind you, to learn all these moves," he remarked. After a short spin, he lowered her down in his arms, gazing into her eyes as her weight relied completely on his strength.

"Do you think I'm any good at it?" Ladybug whispered, only centimeters to his lips.

"You'll get better over time," he mused, pulling her closer. "It is a _multi-step_ process, so I recommend you keep doing this whenever you're available."

"Will do, kitty," she placed a small kiss on his soft lips, "I look forward to our next lesson."


	56. Flames burn brighter

An untamed lady in a literal fire red dress, flying above a moon-lit night, in amongst the borderless edges of cream-white clouds. Two Heroes of powerful nature chased her with their own flight suits, following her closely behind and slowly catching up. Her gifted name is **_Fireheart_** , a title that gives her the ultimate power of Fire and its respective capabilities.

Her power, that was so kindly bestowed upon her in a time of great distress, would ignite the fabric of her dress. It would send her into a fiery rage that could not be quelled by mere reason. The waist-length tresses of auburn hair too ignited without ulterior motivation, whipping around in an intense blaze like a cape of smoke and flare. Her beacon of light proved difficult to miss in the dark empty skies above Paris.

Her beauty was unparalleled to any woman. But her great sadness - that stirred this transformation of raw power and caused her rage- was brought upon by a rejection of her beauty. Never was she so pained by grief before in her life. It hurt her chest, it hurt everywhere, it crushed her soul. The only escape was with the one path she never imagined she would take. Fireheart had a single task; to alleviate Ladybug and Chat Noir of their power.

Her elegance whiffed like the flames in the wind, twirling the long dress train behind her. Each piece of fabric sailed in the breeze whipping past her face, smoke billowing from underneath her feet causing a screen of dark to envelop the sky. A giant wall formed from the fire and ash.

She disappeared into the thick soot and ashes, disguised in amongst the stray ambers and a fiery orange glow behind the screen.

Chat Noir pulled up on the flight suit, banking to the left to avoid the wall of smoke and fire. Ladybug followed him and recuperated in a wide angle turn.

"Ladybug! We need to think of an idea before things get out of hand and she sets the night ablaze!"

A fireball came barreling past their flight path, narrowly missing them as it plummeted to the earth. More came with insistent frequency from the wall, Fireheart was pitching them with sights set on their heat signature.

The heroes continued to dodge and weave through the barrage, using improv to guide them closer towards the wall.

At the last moment before they burst through the wall of smoke, a bright burning flash of fire illuminated behind the translucent screen, a single figure in an intense blaze with flames crackling loudly above the sound of the fire's roar.

The light grew and the smoke cleared, billowing away in a single blast of fire.

A new powerful being emerged from the ashes. Her eyes burned with trails of flames wisping from the corners. The edges of her dress were flames that licked the oxygen out of the sky, drawing her energy from the heat of fusing the elements.

Fireheart spun in a magnificent manner, her dress flaring out in a brilliant display of fire. It covered an expansive area, changing from a deep red to a white-hot. The flames proving too difficult for the heroes to draw close.

The retreated from the devouring heat, deterred from the attack.

"UGHHHH!" Ladybug cried out in anguish, irritated by the power level of the akumatized villain. "Why does she use SPINNING FIRE DRESS of all things?!"

"My Lady," Chat Noir said with a impressed tone, shocked by the awe of her power. "Some people just want to watch the _whirled burn_."


	57. Fight between Colours

"Hehehe," Luka Couffaine mocked at Nathaniel, "You want to learn guitar? Seriously? That makes me laugh! You're never gonna learn with those water paint soiled, fingernail bitten, soft and pointy meat sticks you call fingers."

Luka bent down to Nathaniel's eye level and poked his chest. "The worst you could do is try."

"Hey, I've got plenty talent in these fingers of mine." Nathaniel eyeballed the dyed tips of Luka's hair, "Probably more than you do, Blue boy."

"Ooohh ho ho ho," Luka chuckled, "I wasn't going to bring up hair colour in this argument, but you took it one step too far, Red."

"Bring it Old Man Papa Smurf, fight me."

Luka and Nathaniel glared intensely at each other, sparks flying between them as they butted heads together and fought in a staring contest. Nathaniel's one visible eye twitched as he pushed back on Luka's forehead, both the boys fighting to gain the upper hand on the other.

A competition of Red Vs. Blue.

Adrien innocently stood on the sidelines and watched the spectacle with an awkward 'Do I want to get involved or not?' face.

"Luka," Nathaniel started.

"Nathaniel," Luka retorted.

"Bluenette hair."

"Orangatan head."

"Hoodie."

"Blazer."

"Seedy-as looking emo baby."

"Troubled artist with a wannabe hero complex."

"..."

"That was a low blow, Blueberry-Flavour Bubble Gum."

"Same goes for you, Tomato Salad." Luke eyeballed Nathaniel one more time. "So, do you still wanna learn guitar, Short stack?"

"I could probably play that lump of wood and electronics better than you, String Bean."

"Hey, Hey, Hey, Hey... Hey." Adrien parted the boys from their glare off and took a step between them. "Guys, we just need to help each other in this scenario. You can both be great guitarists if you just channel this bad energy into something creative.

"So please, both of you, _**pick**_ on someone your own size."


	58. Fashionista

_Dress is zipped, clipped, and ready to go. Makeup done. Hair up. Eyes level._

 _Wait for the cue._

 _Then walk._

 _One step. Two Step. Make sure those shoulders are square. Look dead ahead. Keep moving. Breath steady. Make it to the end of the catwalk. Stop. Turn. Hand on hip. Gaze at the audience... hold for two seconds..._

 _Now repeat backwards. Turn and walk. Make it back to the dressing room before these heels get too uncomfortable. Remain calm and composed at all times, you can do this, Rheanni._

 _Everyone is looking at you, they can see everything you're doing. Just keep that pace, that swagger, make it to the end and come back, that's all._

 _Spotlights burn hot white light onto my skin. Don't pay attention to them. Eyes on the prize here._

 _Halfway there, nothing can go wrong. Countdown until safe._

 _Five steps, four steps, three steps, turn the corner, two steps, one more step until you're out of view._

Done.

I hopefully did well.

* * *

Adrien congratulated me as soon as I made it out off the stage area. Which made me happy.

As he smiled kindly towards me, but I could see the other model girls behind him were sneering and drilling holes into me with their eyes.

I've felt their constant cold shoulder ever since I first started, and it always made me feel uneasy working as a model.

Adrien must have picked up on my unease and detected were it was coming from because as soon as he turned around, he immediately dropped his warm smile. It almost looked like those girls that were making fun of me got burned with his irritated gaze. They left with a huff and seemed to lose interest in me. It felt like a weight off my shoulders.

Adrien turned his back on them, smiling like a beam of sunshine. He was so kind towards me, helping me out as a model, as well as a good friend.

I quietly thanked him in a shy voice, unable to muster enough courage to say in normally.

He rested a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"Pay no attention to them," Adrien said with eyes glimmering with compassion, "I've never really understood the fashion industry, those people are so _clothes minded..._ "

* * *

 **A.N.**

Heyo readers, hope you enjoyed this small chapter

I really liked writing it

I have a discord for this series, if you wanna join, Dm me  
ffnet hates links and I don't care anymore


	59. High Roller

"I am the legendary villain, High Roller!" cried the bright purple maniac with a flamboyant bow. He flicked open his jacket and pulled out a deck of cards, throwing them to the ground to pronounce his entrance. Once he earned everyone's attention, High Roller jumped up onto a blackjack table and kicked a stack of poker chips, sending them up in a showy display around the room. "I politely ask that you cash in your long time _loyalty chips_ and kneel before my superior odds! Tonight, I am feeling lucky!"

Everyone in the Casino was stunned into silence. High roller looked around enthusiastically. "I see, so, nobody wants to make the first move?"

He sighed and drew out a magical walking cane from within his jacket cuff, "Now what are the chances of randomly finding something like this in my sleeve? A million to one, that's what!"

High Roller grasped the end of the stick firmly in both hands, swinging the cane like a golf club at a man standing the foot of the table.  
The cane contacted right in the stomach, knocking the wind right out of the man. Everyone around the man shrieked in terror as the man fell to the floor, the villain showing no remorse.

High Roller turned around and winced at the man clutching himself. "Oooh, did I hurt you?" he sarcastically asked while squatting on the edge of the blackjack table. "You know," he said in a quiet voice to the injured man, "if you did what I told you, the chances of you getting hit would have been **a lot lower,** " he emphasised with an evil chuckle.

"There was only one thing I asked of you!" he shouted, straightening up and brandishing the cane like a bat, " _to kneel!_ "

Everyone in the room flinched at his thunderous voice, hesitating at first but slowly dropping down on both knees.

He switched from crazed psychopath to quiet gentleman at the drop of a hat, "Now, I want the tills emptied of money and the money deposited into those conveniently placed sacks near the door, and as soon as possible if you don't mind." He pointed at a small group kneeling by the front desk, "I volunteer... Long Legs, Grey Pants, Baldy, and Girl with Glasses to collect the money," he said with malicious intent, "then follow me to the van out front."

The nominated people quickly jumped up and began fulfilling his demands.

High roller thrashed the air with a couple of practice swings, the loud _thwip_ of air breaking echoed around the silent casino. "Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!" he shouted to the frantically moving people at the cash tills, "For every second spent dillydallying, the chance of LadyLuck and The Black Cat rearing their pesky noses becomes higher, now move faster!"

"Your hand is looking very poor, High Roller!" announced a voice from the door.

High Roller spun around and wasted no time on introductions. He welcomed the two superheroes with a dozen projectile playing cards firing from his jacket cuff.

Ladybug and Chat Noir spun their weapons, making quick work of reducing the weaponized deck to shreds. Chat Noir grinning as he snatched one of the razor-sharp cards from the air and flicked it around to mock him, "Was this your card?"

High Roller grew frustrated as his attacks proved useless. Ladybug stepped up and smiled confidently, knowing this battle was already won.

"Give it up, High Roller, the chances of you winning are zero to none. There are two of us and one of you."

"You forget the odds will always be in my favour, Ladybug! You have two thirds whereas I have one, and I will gladly take those chances!"

High Roller leapt off the table and ran for the slot machines near the back of the casino, Ladybug and Chat Noir following to chase after him. He grinned from ear to ear as he pulled another deck from his suit jacket, flicking a handful of cards like throwing knives to the ground.

In a puff of smoke, four clones of High Roller stood where his cards struck the ground. Each one cackled as they dashed off in different directions, splitting into more clones as they threw down cards of their own. Ladybug and Chat Noir came to a halt. The entire room was filled with explosions of smoke and clones upon clones, upon clones, running around, laughing like maniacs.

"You're outnumbered now! A total of 52 clones for 52 cards and only one of them is genuine!" Ladybug tried throwing her yo-yo at the closest High Roller. The clone caught the string and pulled hard, making Ladybug tumble to the ground. "I forgot to mention; we are all very much real! No illusions! No tricks!"

Ladybug and Chat Noir both rolled behind a row of slot machines seconds before a barrage of cards rained down on their cover. The two slot machines that hid them were only small ones, barely big enough for one person to hide behind, they needed a plan and quick. The clones had stopped running around and had elected to stand ominously in the middle of the room, staring at where the two heroes were hiding.

"The chances of finding the real me are 52:1, Ladybug! And Chat Noir's odds are even worse! Muahahaha!" his voice resounded through the room, each clone syncronising to his voice. "Now hand over your Miraculouses, or I'll tear up this city so much, _it'll make a train wreck look like paradise!_ "

Chat Noir silently tapped Ladybug on the shoulder, 'I have an idea' he worded with his mouth. Slowly extending his baton, Chat Noir poked it out in the open.

A torrent of cards immediately started bouncing off his weapon, making him pull it back as quickly as possible. He motioned a thumbs up to ladybug, then tapped his wrist three times to signal three minutes until she needed to use Lucky Charm. Slowly extending the baton once more, he poked it out the other side.

This time it took a second, but then another torrent of cards began thundering down on Chat's weapon. He quickly pulled it back, throwing his back against the slot machine and taking a second to think.

Chat Noir just confirmed his theory.

The clones were not making decisions for themselves. They would only act when ordered to, probably telepathically, by the real High Roller. If they were making their own decisions, both barrages of cards would have been instantaneous, but the second had a delay. This delay was on the right side of the slot machines. The clones who were on the right would have seen the baton at first, but could only wait for the real High Roller to react before receiving orders to attack.

High Roller had to have a clear view in order to react properly, and he didn't for the second attack. And because the left side was quicker, he must be standing on the left side of the group, at the front, ready to give commands.

Chat Noir knew his general location.

His trained internal clock told him it was two minutes and five seconds until Ladybug was told to use the Lucky Charm, so now was the time to act.

"How about we make a bet!?" Chat Noir shouted. He waited as silence fell on the room. Acknowledging the horrified look on Ladybug's face, he shouted again, "I will bet you my miraculous if I can guess the real High Roller from the fakes!"

After a long silence, a single voice - filled with disdain - spoke out from the crowd, "Are you aware of your stakes? The odds? The price you have to pay? Don't patronize my gifted powers with your hollow promises. I don't wish to play your silly game."

Chat Noir stood up, exposing himself in full view of the clones, "I'm not playing any games."

Every clone seethed with anger and glee as Chat Noir raised his hands in surrender.

"Are you willing? to play?" Chat Noir asked as he dropped his baton to the floor, unarming himself and stepping forward. Ladybug remained hidden behind the slot machine, waiting for the time to run down, her anxiety rushing through her as her partner slowly approached the villain.

"Your Miraculouses are your playing chips," the clones grinned with nasty, perfected teeth, "what are mine?"

"The akumatised Ace of Spades Medallion hanging from your necklace," Chat Noir replied, still walking forward. "Is it a deal?"

A glowing purple butterfly appeared around each and every clone's face, lingering for a while as a silent voice spoke into their ear. As the butterfly slowly faded away, High Roller spoke once more.

"Deal."

Stopping at a comfortable speaking distance away from the group, Chat lowered his hand and pointed. "Before we start, I already know you're on this side, there is no need for all of you to participate. I ask that the first row of clones, specifically, the first twelve on my left to step forward and the rest step back."

The villain clones smirked in unison, "A clever deduction, reading the cards I see." The twelve clones took a step forward while the rest waited behind.

"The rules of the game are simple," Chat Noir started, "I will write a number between 1-12 on the palm of each clone, marking them a designated number." The clones raised their hands outstretched at Chat Noir, the smug look on their faces betraying their confidence. Grabbing a pen from nearby, Chat began at the end of the line, going through each clone and writing a number down.

"I will guess which number the true High Roller is... by relying on," he turned around and gave a nervous nod toward the slot machine, "Ladybug to decide."

He still had a full minute or so before Ladybug was asked to the Lucky Charm. Chat Noir resumed writing the numbers on each hand, making sure to obscure the view from any of the other twelve clones and closing into a fist when he's done.

"You may not peek at the other's number or cheat in any way, these are the rules." He paused and looked up and down the line. "I will give you one last chance to surrender before we play, final warning."

High Roller's clones laughed, "You're trying to beat me at my own game, Chat Noir. You cannot have any hope to win against me."

"Very well," Chat Noir sighed. "Let us play..."

The timer was up for Ladybug, she stood up and called upon her Lucky Charm.

After the bright light show, two ruby red dice fell from the sky, landing on the floor and rolling across the carpet. They came to a halt in between Chat Noir and the line up of clones.

Everyone bent over to look at the results. A three on one die and a four on the other...

A total of Seven...

One of the High Rollers in the line laughed, his hand coming up to slap his mouth as his laughter slowly became desolate and void of any victory. He uncurled his fist, revealing the number seven right in the middle of his palm.

"I lost," the real High Roller admitted dejectedly. "I cannot believe I lost to pure chance..." The clones began walking towards the original, merging behind him until there was only one left.

The hovering butterfly appeared once more around his face, silently burning an angry purple glow before his eyes. "I'm sorry Papillon, but I made a bet," Higher Roller announced aloud, "the gentlemanly thing to do is play your hand."

He reached up and yanked the medallion from his necklace, regretfully holding it out in defeat. Claiming the akumatised item, Chat Noir called upon the Cataclysm. High Roller sighed a heavy sigh.

"How did you know I was the real one?" he asked. Chat Noir stopped. High Roller shrugged, "I'm just genuinely curious how you guessed it was me".

"Well, the thing is..." Chat Noir started, "I didn't."

High Rolled eyes went wide. "What?"

"I kind of cheated?" Chat Noir said awkwardly, earning an even further shocked face from High Roller. He quickly explained, "You see, I wrote a seven on every clone's palm. Not just yours."

"But..." he stuttered, "But you said you were going to write a number between one and twelve on each clone!"

"Seven is a number between one and twelve," Chat said matter of factly, "and it was on each clone."

High Roller was dumbfounded, he was tripping on his own words, "Then how'd the dice... how'd you know the dice was going to roll a seven?"

Chat Noir looked down and kicked the red dice on the floor. They rolled a little bit, but then stopped on three and four. Chat Noir looked back up at High Roller, "Seems to be loaded dice."

"Loaded dice!?" High Roller exclaimed. "You based this bet on loaded dice?"

"Yeah?"

He threw his hands up in a fluster, "How'd you even know Ladybug was going to call upon LOADED DICE that only lands on SEVEN?"

Chat shrugged, "A hunch."

"A HUNCH?" he practically shouted. "You beat a villain whose powers are based on magic and probability with a HUN-"

Chat cut him off by destroying the medallion, "Alright, that's enough from you."

* * *

"Do you think the police was a good idea?" Ladybug asked Chat Noir as she watched the detransformed High Roller, or 'Steve from marketing', being handcuffed. "We don't usually turn over these people to the authorities after they're defeated."

"Well, he did try to steal money before we got here," Chat argued. He helped another casino patron off the floor and guided them towards the exit. "That was completely on him."

"I know, but it's such a shame."

The policed were soon finished detaining the villain and began walking him towards the front door. They paused before Chat Noir and Ladybug, shaking their hands and congratulating them on a splendid job.

High Roller looked up shamefully, looking at the two heroes. He sighed and asked the officer if he could have a word with them before he left. Giving a puzzled look, the officer reluctantly took a step back and nodded.

High Roller paused, apologizing with a bow of his head. "In hindsight, I should have seen it coming... I had no chance whatsoever."

Ladybug placed a hand on his shoulder, "You were being influenced."

"That doesn't excuse my actions," he confessed. "Papillon seemed too good to be true, and he was. Now I suffer the consequences."

"You can still plead not guilty," Chat interjected, "I'm sure the judge will soften your punishment if you cooperate fully, and he may rule out jail time completely if you provide as much information as you can about Papillon."

High Roller blew out a long breath, "It's only now, do I realise the full extent of what I did. Jail time might be the best for me."

Chat Noir could see despair filling his eyes as the man finally accepted his fate, maybe even a tear.

"How will I cope?" he whispered, scared of speaking too loud in case he heard himself. "What will being imprisoned feel like?"

The two heroes shot each other a look; this guy was really taking it hard. It almost felt borderline depressing. Ladybug motioned to High Roller with her eyes, mouthing the words 'Tell a joke!' to Chat Noir.

Chat Noir cleared his throat a little.

"Well, there is only one thing I can say about prison," Chat Noir said, putting another hand sympathetically on the man's shoulder, "compared to the tyrannical reign of Papillon, I'm sure it will be like _Pair of Dice_."

* * *

 **A.N.**

Hehehe, nice one me

Long time no see ppl!  
I won't lie, this one was six months in the making  
oof  
Comment how you think about this chapter, I think it is my best one yet  
Even throw a suggestion for a later chapter if you want one


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